


If You Like Sidlink But Hate Plot Youre In The Right Place, Pal

by we_are_all_irrelivant



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, in like one chapter but i still feel inclined to warn people, oh there is ! also some porn sprinkled in here but its all marked in the note @ the beginning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:05:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_are_all_irrelivant/pseuds/we_are_all_irrelivant
Summary: ok so let me explain for a second i write a lot i like sidlink a lot i do not like writing actual fics i have a really subpar tagging system on my tumblr (where i primarily post my writing) i would like to have one go to place for people who wanna read my shit instead of them having to dig through dozens of posts to find one thing ergo , here is a collection of all the various shitty ficlets ive written. if ur lookin for an actual fic maybe dont waster your time here i dont fuck w real fic writing this is a bunch of unaffiliated ficlets based on a bunch of unaffiliated aus .. if ur lookin for plot u aint gonna find it here i assure u if ur from princesiddie though then welcome here is a primo collection of All the stuff my trash brain has shat out over the months





	1. After the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> oh shit ! remember that self indulgent au porn i wrote once ! this is from the same au !  
> i suppose i should provide some context so this at least makes sense so the quick and dirty is links an angel sidons an incubus, they fuck; they Should Not Have Done That, god(?) kicks link outta heaven for having engaged in sodomy with a demon, its really shitty and bad but sidon takes care of him (ths will b a recurring theme) this is the part immediately after link is cast out

Sidon stopped, watching carefully the figure collapsed before him. It was small and folded, all jutting bones and hard edges beneath pale, stained skin. They were cowering it seemed, long, doe-like legs drawn to the chest and weak hands curled protectively around the face. Blood and dirt was smeared all over them, clinging to and concealing some of the bruises that marred the alabaster skin. Their head was shorn almost bald, evidently violently so. Spots of the scalp appeared bare and raw as though the hair had been torn away instead of cut. Even from the distance he stood, Sidon could see their frantic trembling, jarring the entire fragile form. He could just barely hear the ragged, quivering breaths they were sucking in, uneven and terrified. In his chest, Sidon’s heart twisted.

Link.

Even like this, even so broken and wretched as this, Sidon could almost see the sheer vitality coursing through him, stirring and humming beneath his skin so wildly it seemed to bruise him with every passing moment. When Link shifted, a tiny whimper of pain slipping from him, Sidon could see his wings. They were much, much smaller than he’d ever seen them; probably at least half the size. But most strikingly, they’d been stripped of their feathers and badly damaged, purpled with bruises and bent in a few places. Sidon pressed his mouth into a tight line.

He took a few steps forwards, bending when he reached Link to gingerly pick him up. He shushed him when he convulsed in his arms, muscles feebly tensing in pain as all his injuries were jarred. Sidon tucked an arm beneath his knees and curled the other around his thin, bony shoulders, clutching him as tightly to his chest as he could without hurting him.

Sidon knew he’d done this. He knew the state Link was in was all his wretched fault. He knew if Link were coherent, he’d probably tear his vessel to shreds, bursting with fury. He knew if that happened, he might be capable of killing him, despite how weak the current of holiness within him felt now. He was well aware. But to leave him here, to let him succumb to the elements or his own injuries or other mortals in a body as weak and new to him as this was undeniably cruel. He needed to redress as much of his sin as he could.

Sidon laid Link in the backseat of his car, gently tucking the blanket he’d brought about him, trying to calm his terrible shivering. Link laid still beneath it, his shaking only lessened a bit and only by the blanket’s sheer weight. Sidon drove them home carefully, avoiding the rougher roads and maintaining a speed he thought would gentle the rocking of the car. When they reached his apartment, he was glad the light in his hallway never turned on. He didn’t want to have to try and explain anything to any nosy neighbors.

–

The water was warm. Sidon cupped his hands together and scooped up as much as he could, pouring it down the the darkened back of Link’s thin neck. He said nothing; did nothing when it ran over the scrapes and abrasions littering his back, wetting the bruises beneath the skin and making them shine cruelly. Sidon smoothed a hand over the sharp plane of his shoulder, working the dried blood and dirt from his skin as gently as he could manage. Link sucked in a shallow breath, eyes unfixed and empty, body still trembling despite the bathroom’s warmth. Sidon picked up Link’s bony hand, gingerly straightening his stiff elbow and massaging warmth into his icy fingertips. He hadn’t any idea how long Link had laid out there for. He hoped it had been only hours, most of his cuts and bruises were still fairly new, but he could never be sure.

Sidon was shaken from his thoughts by Link suddenly pulling back from him, too weak to actually take his hand back. His shivering intensified, and Link curled in on himself further, back heaving as his breathing picked up. Tears rolled easily down his cheeks, collecting at the tip of his shivering chin and dripping into the bath water. He grabbed at his knees, weakly digging his nails into his skin.

Sidon petted at his precious skin, shushing him gently. “You’re alright,” he murmured. “You’re ok.” He pressed warm hands to his back, sliding them up to gently knead tension from his shoulders. “Everything’s alright.”

One last strangled sob slipped from Link before he sagged, his head bent further, shoulders curved even more pathetically forwards. When Sidon poured water over his head, he shuddered stiffly. As Sidon rubbed at his fuzzed scalp, taking care not to touch the raw hairless spots, he could hear him mumbling frantically to himself, voice hoarse and broken with sorrow. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but the way it subtly made his skin crawl made him think it was Enochian. Sidon closed off himself as best he could and continued bathing him, washing clean his contused skin, rubbing warmth back into the parts of him that were cold, shushing and cosseting him when he worked himself up, brushing fat, round tears from his hollow cheeks. It was slow going using just his hands to scoop and pour water over him, but he didn’t dare test how fragile Link really was with a showerhead.

As Sidon rinsed off his arm, a single drop of dark currant red blossomed in the water. When he looked up, he found Link’s nose pouring blood down his face, flowing over the curve of his lips to fall from his chin. Sidon panicked for a moment, wracking his brain for what he’d done to jar him badly enough to make him bleed, but calmed once he realized it was probably just the result of his grace not yet understanding this vessel’s fragility. Sidon curved his finger beneath Link’s chin, easily turning his face towards his. His eyes were blank, made clouded and unseeing by sorrow and pain. They struggled even to focus on the shape of him, explaining how Link hadn’t yet recognized his face. The blood on his chin flowed down his neck, running halfway down his chest. He let his eyes flutter shut as Sidon wiped away the stuff on his face, the washcloth in his hand soft and plush. He rinsed away the rest of the mess on his neck and his chest. Despite the warmth of the water and Sidon’s own hands, Link’s skin was still cool to the touch and he trembled so hard it felt like he was convulsing.

Sidon helped Link from the tub, pulling him to unfold his stiff knees and stand and then swaddling him in a thick, lush towel. He slumped against Sidon’s chest when he lifted him, body boneless and so utterly fragile it hurt. Sidon sat on the bed with him, gently toweling water from his skin. Link’s breath was shallow and slow in his throat, ragged and graveled through his raw throat. As Sidon dried him, he shifted, mustering all his strength to turn and press into him, attracted by the warmth. He was so unused to this body he couldn’t figure out how to warm it himself. Sidon froze when he noticed. He squeezed shut his eyes as Link lifted a feeble, clawed hand to touch weakly his neck. He rested his head on Sidon’s chest, already exhausted of what little energy he had. His lips dragged at the fabric of his shirt as he began whispered again, mouth moving in familiar ways forming words he couldn’t recognize. A tight involuntary shudder ran through Sidon at the speaking of such a holy tongue so close to him.

Link was too out of it to realize what he was doing, who he was clinging to so desperately, whose warmth he was seeking. What kind of creature he was touching. It was all almost too much for Sidon, to be holding him like this. It was what he’d always wanted, what he’d spent hours fantasizing about after and even before the sex, but not like this. Not when it was all his fault for him even being here.

Before Sidon could think what to do–caught between protecting him from the outside world or from himself–Link was shuddering again, brow tightly knitted, round wet tears rolling down his precious cheeks, Enochian frantic and shattered by the emotion choking his voice. Sidon trailed a hand up his back, nails skating over the chilled skin at the nape of his neck. He knew touching him there usually calmed him down. Link ducked his head, sagging into himself even more as he sobbed into his knees.

Of all Sidon’s sins, this weighed the heaviest.


	2. DPD!Link fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya someone asked 4 fluff once so,., here  
> this is from an au wherein link has dpd (which u cn read more abt [here](https://psychcentral.com/disorders/dependent-personality-disorder-symptoms/) incase u dont kno what tht is!)  
> its uh,, deeply self indulgent (a trend......) so if links like Really ooc thats why

Link pressed into Sidon’s warm embrace, shifting to rest his lips against his shoulder. Sidon tightened his arm around Link, pulling him closer so he could press a kiss into his mused hair. Link smiled, heart buzzing happily in his chest. He moved his hand to caress the sharp edge of Sidon’s jaw and rested his head on his strong chest, eyes turned up to watch the clouds drift lazily above them.

Sidon had suggested a picnic for lunch. He’d become restless staying at home, what with how unusually pleasant a day it was, and Link was more than willing to oblige. He’d helped Sidon make and pack sandwiches into an old fashioned wicker basket and had carried the armfuls of blankets they’d brought to their favorite spot: beneath a limber, sprawling willow tree just a couple hundred feet from a gently sloping knoll. The two had eaten quickly and had since gotten themselves tangled in each other’s limbs, lounging back on their blankets and basking in the day’s gentle warmth. Link had become fascinated with the clouds above, big, puffy, bright white things that cast billowing shadows across the ground. Sidon was content to simply watch him.

Link’s bright cerulean eyes were trained on the sky, branch-dappled sunlight spilling across his face and highlighting parts of his irises like they were shimmering jewels. From the angle he was watching, Sidon could see his dark, full eyelashes, long and curling forward to nearly brush the gentle curve of his cheeks. He watched Link blink slowly a handful of times, eyelids obscuring more and more of his shining eyes each time, before he finally let them fall shut. He shifted almost imperceptibly, moving to press his cheek to Sidon’s chest. Within a few moments he was motionless, his slight chest steadily and gingerly swelling and falling as he slumbered. Sidon lifted a hand and brushed the hair from his eyes. He liked seeing Link like this, calm and lax enough to sleep. He was usually so wound up around him, either nearly manic and endlessly restless and singing bountiful praise of him or whipped into an anxious, trembling, ashamed mess, unable to look him in the eye or say anything but “I’m sorry” and “I love you.” Sidon knew it was always because of him, because of Link’s incessant delusion that Sidon was somehow so much better than him, godlike almost, and the insatiable desire of his to please Sidon any way possible. It hurt him, almost, to see Link go to such lengths to make sure he was always happy, always relaxed, always satisfied, with almost no concern for himself or his wellbeing or what he wanted. Sometimes Sidon wanted to grab Link by the shoulders and tell him, “ _You matter too! I care about you, and I want you to as well!_ ” Although within himself he knew it wasn’t that simple. It was a fundamental part of who he was that was defected, that had absorbed the idea of pleasing him at any cost and refused to let it go; it was a piece of him he could never hope to fix on his own or through his own sheer will.

But Link’s clinginess wasn’t all bad or worrying. There were times when he was calmer, less likely to whip himself into a frenzy of self deprecative putdowns, when all he seemed to care about was being as physically close to Sidon as he possibly could; when he was wholly content with doing nothing more than cuddling, showering whatever parts of him he could reach in ginger touches and syrupy kisses, seeming to melt like a candle in the firm warmth of Sidon’s embrace; when the deep grooves of worry that usually marred his precious face smoothed and disappeared, suddenly making him look years younger and happier and fresher; when his slight form nestled into the curves and juts of Sidon’s and he could feel the lovesick vitality and life humming through him, bright and bubbling and billowing; when the half melted, hazy and sated smile he adopted every time Sidon caressed his face or brushed his lips against his skin or murmured sweet nothings into his blushing ears spread across his soft mouth and wavered giddily under the radiantly warm affection he poured over him. Although by far, Sidon loved it most when Link fell asleep, mellowed and relaxed enough to let his eyes flutter shut by the ginger musing and tousling of his hair by Sidon or the sweet melodies he hummed in his ear. This was when he looked his freshest, his youngest, his most innocent, brow unfurrowed by the absence of the nightmares he so often suffered, hands curled loose and open by his face in sharp contrast to the tight, anxious fists he held almost constantly when he was awake. The self destructively selfless part of him was dormant. He was blissfully, selfishly at peace when he slept.

Sidon gently caressed Link’s cheek, fingers just barely ghosting along the curve of his jaw. Link shifted slowly, grasping at Sidon’s shirt and groaning softly before peeling open a sleepy red eye to peer up at Sidon. His gaze at once lit up and softened lovingly as Sidon’s face came into focus. He stretched a bit, wrenching open his mouth to yawn cutely before offering Sidon a small, warm smile.

“Did you have a nice nap?” Sidon teased playfully.

Link wrinkled his nose groggily; letting his eye fall shut again and rubbing his cheek against Sidon’s shirt, twisting his head a bit to press his lips to his firm chest. He turned his head to the side, pressing his ear to the left side of his chest, listening to the confident, steady thrumming of his reverent heart. He flattened his hand on the opposite side of his chest, his own heart swelled with adoration.

“Darling.”

Link perked up instantly, lifting his head to gaze up at Sidon. He remained soft, pliant in his grasp as Sidon curled a finger beneath his chin and gently coaxed him forward, bringing his lips to meet his. Link closed his eyes as they kissed, hot whirlwind electricity whipped through him and setting his skin ablaze with tingles and goosebumps. He remained a malleable thing in Sidon’s arms as he was gingerly lifted and placed on the ground, biting his lip when the kiss was briefly broken. Sidon, strong and firm and godly, draped his blissful weight over Link, bearing down to catch his lips in another chaste kiss. Link shifted beneath him, every inch of him humming with warm excitement. He loved this man. He loved every inch, every cell, every atom of his being with every depth of his existence. He was so good, so kind, so purely and wholly benevolent it made Link’s head spin. How he claimed to love Link back was a mystery to him. Someone this good, this holy, deserved someone equally so. Not some rotting, wretched cur like Link.

Sidon brought Link’s spinning mind back down to Earth, bracing his hand against one cheek as he brushed his lips over the other. Link shivered, sliding an arm around Sidon’s shoulders. A soft giggle escaped his lips as Sidon kissed down to his neck, ghosting his lips over and blowing air at the ticklish stretch of skin beneath his ear. Sidon pressed kiss after kiss along the curve of his neck, all chaste and affectionate, never hard or hungry enough to arouse Link. Link let his eyes flutter shut, a contented hum rumbling low in his throat. When he opened them again, Sidon was staring down at him, molten gold eyes burning warmly. Locks of his mahogany hair that had escaped the intricate braid down his back hung around them like curtains, blocking them from the rest of the world. He held the curve of Link’s jaw, thumb thoughtfully petting at his cheek, and leaned down to kiss him, soft and sweet and gentle in all the right ways, enough so to make Link’s cheeks warm and redden the way they had the first time they kissed.

“I love you,” Sidon breathed, still so close his lips nearly brushed Link’s again as he spoke.

Link was too lovestruck and dazed to speak, but his hands were presently trapped; he couldn’t sign either. Instead, he gingerly curled his fingers in the wispy hairs at the nape of Sidon’s neck and leaned up to press his lips against his.

Sidon would know what he meant.


	3. Concern Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Concern writing meme #2 please! "that does not look like a flesh wound, dude" maybe link walks into a stable and a friendly but persistent stranger comes to ask if he's alright? But ofc he says he's fine "it's only a flesh wound" but he's a lying boy"  
> i dont _actually_ think i like this but. i mean maybe you will we'll see

Link kept his left arm to his side as he approached the stable, leading his horse to the trough as best he could with one hand. He instinctively reached out with both to type up the rope and winced sharply when hot pain coursed through his bad arm, winding all the way up to his shoulder and making him return it to the bent, cradled position it had held since he’d injured it. He gritted his teeth, squeezing his good hand into a fist to keep from shouting. He bounced on his toes impatiently as he waited for the pain to die down. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that this was unusual; that none of his other injuries had been and remained this painful for so long or radiated so much heat even from a few inches away or made his entire body ache and hurt like this or, when the wind was right and he’d kept it wrapped a few hours longer than usual, stunk this badly. He subconsciously suspected it was infected. But consciously, he ignored it. It was just a scratch. He’d gotten and survived worse. He would be fine.

Link pressed a fistful of rupees into the stable attendee’s hand, not bothering to count out the appropriate amount for a night’s rest. They could keep the change. Link all but collapsed in the bed furthest from the entrance, wanting as much silence and dark as he could get. He was exhausted. His entire body was aching and feverish, much more so than usual after a long time away from a warm bed. He knew he was sick, but he was denying it. He didn’t have time to waste doing nothing but laying in bed feeling sick and sorry for himself. He could muddle through.

Link must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because he suddenly found himself being jarred awake by the stomping of children’s feet on the wooden floors. He sat up groggily, stifling a groan as he leaned a little too heavily on his bad arm, and looked around. A loud crack of lightning told him why the room was suddenly packed. Children, wholly content with moving their games of tag and chase indoors, shrieked and squealed, shrill voices echoing off the rounded walls of the stable and mingled with the low din of travelers chattering amongst themselves as they waited out the rain. The whole thing grated harshly on Link’s nerves as well as the headache he quickly discovered he’d woken up with. He reached his good hand up to rub at his temples. He should’ve known. If he’d wanted peace and quiet he ought to have gone back to Hateno.

Link rolled his shoulders and stood, steadying himself on the small set of drawers beside the bed. There was no chance of him getting back to sleep now, and he’d noticed his arm was becoming hot and tender again. It was time to clean and redress it. Link ground his teeth a bit in dreadful anticipation, slinging his pack over his good shoulder and taking a seat at the one (thankfully) empty table. He started rummaging through it, looking for the roll of bandages and salve he’d bought from a traveling healer. Meanwhile, he curled his left hand into a fist and began the arduous task of straightening his arm. He had to stop every few inches to keep from shouting out loud, the pain was so fiery. It seemed to pervade down to the muscle, the bone even, and almost made Link dizzy. He sucked in a tight, determined breath and forced himself to straighten it the rest of the way, gripping the table with a white knuckled hand as his head spun with sheer pain. It was as if the lynel whose swinging blade his arm caught had managed to bite into a nerve.

Link shook his head again, exhaling tightly. He carefully and gingerly unwound the old bandages clinging to the wound, wrinkling his nose a bit at the stench that wafted out. He tried to clean it as thoroughly and as often as he could, but he found it was terribly easy to forget or convince himself he didn’t need to or that it would simply hurt too much. He clenched his jaw at the sight of it, raw ragged skin clinging together by bits of coagulated and dried pus and plasma. The flesh beneath his skin had appeared red as animal meat when it happened, and it had continued gushing blood even after he’d escaped from the lynel and found refuge at the side of a river. His shirt and pants had been all but stained absolutely crimson (he’d stripped them off once he got to his house and left them in a probably festering pile near his bed) and putting it under water had been excruciating. After several good dunks and a somewhat embarrassing volume of tears, Ljnk had thought he’d caught a glimpse of something blueish-white peeking from between the two pieces of flesh. He’d ignored it then; chalked it up to a mistaken shine from the wetness of the wound. Since then, the two sides of the wound had become swollen and red, so much so he could no longer see the sliver of white.

“Are you ok?”

Link started at the voice, lost in thought and startled by the sudden addition. It was a child, Link thought at first, although later inspection suggested they were in their mid teens, not very much younger than Link himself. Their gaze was trained on Link’s arm, eyes wide with concern. Link looked down at his wound, hot and shiny and swollen, and then back up at the person. He nodded.

 _I’m fine,“_ Link signed, biting back a wince when he jarred his left hand. _It’s a scratch. Just a flesh wound.”_

The person narrowed their eyes. They looked down at the wound, tilting their head to the side a bit and then looking back up at Link. “That doesn’t look like a flesh wound, dude.” Before Link could say anything, the person had sat down beside him and picked up his arm, twisting and turning it back and forth. Link started, gritting his teeth to keep from shouting out loud. He tried to pull his arm away, but even that made pain scream up to his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and signed stiffly “ _Please stop._ ”

They let go after a moment and were quiet as Link waited for the burning pain to dissipate. “I can help,” they said firmly. “I know some first aid. I can at least make it look better than… this.” Link looked up at them and frowned, raising his hand to sign something.

“It’s starting to get infected. If you let it get bad enough you could lose your whole arm.”

Link stopped. He didn’t adore asking for help, especially from strangers, but even he had to admit he was in a bit over his head. He didn’t know very much about first aid besides the very basics. And the prospect of losing his arm was much more terrifying than he’d expected. Link pressed his mouth together and sighed tightly. He looked away for a moment, and then signed, “ _I’ve really only been able to clean it. I didn’t know all what else to do.”_

“That’s fine. It’s not too bad yet.” The person leaned forward, taking his arm again, much more gently this time. They whipped out a rag dampened with something herbal smelling and began gingerly swiping away the crusted blood and plasma on the edges of the wound. Link winced a bit, biting back a groan. He looked at the person, and then shyly signed, “ _Thank you._ ”

The person only shook their head. “Don’t worry about it.”


	4. Fluff Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Promt: 8: 'Do you want me to run a warm bath for you? We can use your favourite bubble bar.’ For dpd link I think that'd be cute."  
> more dpd link !! love that boy !! projecting is fun

Link trembled in Sidon’s arms, muscles taut and burning. He sucked in a soft, ragged breath, scrunching himself into a tighter ball. He didn’t feel right with Sidon touching him like this. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Sidon.

Link pressed his face into his arm, squeezing his eye shut as another sob rolled through him. He felt weak. The dull, buzzing pain on his skin seemed somehow to permeate down to his bones, blurring and smearing with the hot, electric panic coursing through his mind. He’d gotten himself whipped into one of his moods again, so caught up in making Sidon see, making him understand how absolutely and wholly good he was, and how horrible Link was in comparison. He’d run out of comparisons at some point, and he’d panicked when Sidon started reassuring him, telling him they were equals and that he himself was no better than him or anyone. But he was wrong! He was so, so wrong; Sidon was flawless. Sidon was perfect in every sense of the word, so radiant and shining he made the sun, the stars themselves seem dim and dull; so benevolent and holy he seemed some sort of reverent deity bound to the Earth. Sidon was perfect. Sidon was amazing. Sidon was flawless. Sidon was a god. Link didn’t deserve Sidon’s precious, glorious affection. He was nothing but a mutt to him; a cur that had been thrown one bone one time by a benevolent god and hadn’t left its side ever since. Sidon didn’t deserve to have him leeching and clinging to him for the rest of his life. Link was nothing but garbage; the rotting refuse of the lowest of the lowliest creatures. He was evil and wicked and twisted and hideous and did not deserve even to exist within the same realm as Sidon.

But Sidon wouldn’t let him think this. Sidon, the accursed, beautiful man. As soon as Link stopped he started negating everything he’d said, unknowingly crumbling the very pedestal upon which he lived in Link’s mind; the same pedestal that held up his frameworks and scaffolding. Link had panicked, tumbling and tripping over his words as he tried desperately to show Sidon how good he was in his eyes, how perfect, how reverent, how absolutely holy he was. His words became messy as his thinking jumbled and twisted over itself, locking up and seemingly coating his tongue in lead. It had almost brought tears to his eyes. Sidon needed to know. He needed to know how good he was. He just needed to. If he didn’t, who knew what would have happened? If he thought them as equals, how would he ever tolerate the mistakes Link made? How would he ever accept his shortcomings?

Link’s panic and worry had folded in and in and in on itself, twisting and rolling and flexing until it reached critical mass and ripped through Link like a bullet. He’d fallen apart, crumbling to his knees and begging Sidon to understand, please just understand. He was not good. He was not pure. He was not perfect. He was flawed, irreparably so. He was nothing. He was dirt to an angel. He was a sinner in the presence of a god. They were not equals, never had been, never could be. It was simply impossible. Link had begged Sidon to understand this, pleaded at his feet for him to please understand, please acknowledge it, please recognize it. Sidon hadn’t said anything. He’d watched Link, shivering, sobbing, lamenting mess that he was, and gingerly touched him after a moment or two. Link had flinched. He’d coaxed Link off the ground, cradling him secure and warm in his strong holy arms, and sat on the bed with him, letting Link curl into his chest and sob all he wanted.

Eventually, Link had burned himself out, frantic, obsessive passion replaced by a sick, scraped out hollow feeling, like he was simply the fragile shell left over. He shivered, pressing into Sidon for warmth and stability. He felt like he might fall to pieces at any slight jarring. Weakly, something in the back of his mind told him to struggle against Sidon; try to push from his grasp so he wouldn’t be holding filth. But he was simply too spent, too broken.  
Link felt gentle lips press against the top of his head. He trembled, closing his eyes and whimpering softly.

“I’m sorry,” Link gasped, voice hoarse from sobbing and fragile.

Sidon said nothing, only shaking his head a bit. He lifted a hand, bringing it up to brush back the hair on his forehead. Link exhaled softly as Sidon brushed his lips over his hot forehead.

“My pearl…” he murmured. He pressed another kiss to his head, firmer and sweeter. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

Link’s heart turned with panic in his chest. He suspected he meant alright to mean something other than what he thought, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He shifted, suddenly stirred with panic and anxiety. “I’m–” Link started, voice fearful and small. Sidon shushed him, holding him tighter and gently rubbing his cold, goosepimpled arms.

“Shh… You’re ok. None of that, now,” Sidon cooed warmly, voice so sweet and gentle that it brought tears to Link’s eyes. He was so perfect. Even with how Link was, all the breakdowns and episodes he had, how he refused any compliment he tried to give, how quickly he could switch from suffocatingly needy and clingy to fearfully distant and afraid, he remained calm and collected and comforting, no matter what. No matter how wound up and frenzied he became, Sidon would always sooth him back to calmness; always hold him as he cried and steady him as he shook. Link loved it, the way just his voice or his touch could relax whatever he was feeling too much of like a salve. It satisfied the deep, almost primal desire he harbored of being cared for and cosseted over and coddled, but he could never truly enjoy it. It wasn’t fair to made someone like Sidon–of all people!–have to worry about his wellbeing and come running every time he had a bad day or made himself upset. He tried now to self sooth as best he could, although he lacked the fundamental skills to do much more than berate himself for being so weak and helpless, and often to convince Sidon to leave him before he was truly better. But Sidon–perfect, reverent, holy Sidon–very rarely listened to him. He would sit with him as long as it took to talk him down, and usually even longer after that to assure he was fully calm. The care Sidon showed him almost always made him tear up.

“Do you want me to run a warm bath for you?” Sidon asked gently, brushing back the hair that had fallen in front of Link’s eyes. “Perhaps that would help you calm down a bit. We can use your favorite bubble bar.”

Link pressed into Sidon’s touch, ignoring the bitter voice within him that cursed him for ever even thinking about bathing with a creature so divine as Sidon. He was simply too tired now. He needed Sidon’s affection and care. He nodded weakly.

“Alright. Can you wait here for a few minutes?”  
Link nodded again, and felt his heart ache dully as Sidon let him slide from his lap and got up. Link curled himself into a tight ball, pressing his forehead to his knees and squeezing his eyes shut as bitter thoughts bombarded him. How could he let Sidon suggest something like that? How could he let a flawless creature like Sidon bathe with him? It was deplorable to even consider. Sidon had told Link many times before that he loved his body, adored it even. They’d had sex plenty of times. Sidon must’ve had seen his body dozens, if not hundreds of times over the years. But no matter what, Link always felt a brief flash of insecurity he never felt with anyone else whenever he was naked with Sidon. He knew his body was abysmal, just as he as a person was. He still flinched a bit whenever Sidon touched him, looked away when he praised and adored his body, blushed when he kissed him anywhere but his head. Sidon had told him numerous times that he loved his body, that it was perfect and beautiful. Link could never shake the feeling that he was lying.  
Link started a bit when Sidon approached him, towel wrapped around his waist. The smooth, tanned skin of his strong chest made Link’s ears redden and twitch. He reached out for him feebly, brokenly, and felt his heart warm and soar when Sidon picked him up gingerly. He rested his head on his firm chest, radiating heat like an oven. Sidon was good. Sidon was flawless. Sidon was a god.

Link let Sidon help him with his clothes, too spent and hollowed inside to let his self consciousness refuse Sidon’s help. He insisted, though, on getting into the tub himself. How helpless would he seem then, needing help to get into a bath?The water was hot, but not too hot. It was comforting, like a hug from a mother, and he could tell from its silkiness and sweet redolence that Sidon had added some kind of oil or bath salt. As Link lowered himself into the water, he could already feel some of the tension in his back and legs relax. He submerged himself with a soft sigh, flexing his fingers as the bath’s warmth enveloped him in a soothing embrace. Link heard Sidon climb into the tub as well and then felt his hands gently encircle his waist, pulling him to lie back against his chest. Link let him, ignoring the part of him that screamed at him for letting Sidon touch someone as filthy and decrepit as him. He shivered as Sidon brushed his lips over his ear, humming and murmuring softly to himself. Link tipped his head back, resting it in the crook of Sidon’s shoulder so he could look back at him. Sidon smiled, patient and sweet and beautiful. Link felt his cheeks warm. He shifted, sitting up and looking away from Sidon.

“I’m sorry,” Link squeaked out, voice pinched and fearful. He didn’t know quite what he was apologizing for, but he felt a distinct urgent feeling as though he’d done something wrong.  
Sidon slipped his arms around him again, turning him around so they were chest to chest. Link stared into Sidon’s molten, golden eyes, flecks of cerulean shining like jewels. They held nothing but kindness and love and adoration, even for a creature as horrendous as he. It made Link’s chest tighten and tears spring up in his eyes. Sidon lifted a hand to cup Link’s cheek, swiping away with his thumb the tear that had begun to roll down his precious cheek.

“Shh, my darling,” he murmured. “No tears now. Everything’s alright. I promise.”

Link’s chest swelled at this. He loved Sidon. He adored him. He was infatuated with him, his goodness, his perfection, his divinity. There were not, it seemed, enough words in existence to describe him. None of the ones Link had seemed to do him enough justice. Link’s heart stirred, roused by Sidon’s words, but he was too withdrawn now to erupt into frenetic praise like he usually did. Now, he simply rested his head on Sidon’s chest, pressing into his warmth and wrapping his arms around him. Sidon pressed a kiss to Link’s head, one hand gently raking his nails up and down Link’s back along his spine, the way he knew he liked, as the other played with and twirled his long, silky hair, let down from its usual ponytail for bathing. Link closed his eyes, a pleasurable chill rolling through him as he felt the last bits of his anxiety and mania slip away, expertly teased from him by the bath and Sidon. He closed his eyes, senses occupied by the sheer presence of Sidon.

He loved him so much.


	5. DPD!Link shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more dpd link i think this was a vent thing i cant remember either way hes sad !! everything i say link does replace it with me doing that thats what im like as a person

Link pressed his forehead into Sidon’s wide, firm chest. Every inch of his skin hurt, it seemed, rolling and tingling with tight, bitter sadness. The pain was pervasive, leaching through his muscles and flesh straight down to his bones. He wanted to cover, to hide from it, to bury it and himself deep, deep underground where no one could ever hope to find him; where he could rot and suffer alone.

Link sucked in a tight, scared breath. His heart was thundering in his chest. He picked up his head and gazed up at Sidon, golden eyes dulled by worry and pity. Link knew if those eyes ever held malice or hatred for him, he would surely kill himself. He was so perfect. Compared to him, who was little more than dirt, Sidon was like something of a god, it seemed: endlessly selfless and benevolent; radiant in every way; breathtakingly beautiful. Which was why he needed him to kill him.

Link reached up, gently cupping the upwards curve of his jaw. His thumbs brushed over his fuzzy sideburns and a small, absentminded smile flashed on his lips. He loved him so much. He gingerly coaxed Sidon’s face towards his, pressing their foreheads together when they were close enough. Link’s heart slowed a bit, soothed by him sheer proximity to Sidon. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the reason came rushing back in a wave. Link tensed, a creeping finger of bruised pain crawling hp his spine and spreading to wrap its tendrils around Link’s very chest. His face drew tightly, chin wavering. He loved Sidon so, so damn much. He was suffering. He’d been good. Sidon wasn’t a cruel man. Maybe he’d agree to it.

“What is it, my pearl?” Sidon murmured, placing one of his warm hands over Link’s.

Link choked back tears, cursing himself for being so repulsive and weak around Sidon like this. He took a few shuddering breaths and then whispered with every ounce of energy within him:

“Please kill me.”

Sidon was quiet. Link squeezed his eyes shut tighter, sobs wracking his body. He wouldn’t be able to go on any longer if Sidon didn’t do it. He knew he couldn’t kill himself–whatever afterlife there was, he wouldn’t be able to rest knowing he’d been so selfish to Sidon and made him hate him like that–so the next best thing was Sidon. It would be a win-win; Sidon would finally be rid of his clingy wretched leech of boyfriend and Link would finally be dead, and killed by someone as holy as Sidon nonetheless. He couldn’t think of a better way to die.

“Link…” Sidon’s voice was soft, yet the sheer emotion held within it nearly tore Link to shreds. “Darling…”

“Please,” he whispered brokenly. “I-I can’t do it myself. I need you t–” He stopped, another tight sob rolling through him. “P-please. Please, I need to die but I can’t do it. I need you to. Please.”

“My pearl, I would never even dream about hurting you, you know that. Where is this coming from?”

Link ducked his head, moving his hands to fist them in his hair and pull at it hard, trying in vain to distract himself so he didn’t break all the way down. Sidon’s large hands came to cover his and he gently coaxed them down from his head, resting them on Link’s chest. Link didn’t want to stop, knew he deserved the pain, but who was he to defy Sidon?

“My pearl…”

Link’s chest tightened. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe asking Sidon to kill him was upsetting him more than if he’d gone on his own to try and kill himself. No. No, he remembered how Zelda had been last time. This was much better than that time. It was better for Sidon, yes, but it would all be for naught if Sidon didn’t agree.

“I c-can’t…” Link breathed. “I can’t take it anymore. I can’t. I have t-to die…” He took in a harsh, fragile breath and looked up at Sidon again, eyes vulnerable and pleading. “Please. It would be easy. It would be so easy.”

Sidon’s face took on a look that Link couldn’t quite pinpoint. It made his heart sink. Even more proof that Link deserved to die. He was upsetting Sidon. _Sidon_ , who was perfect in every possible way. Sidon, who deserved a worthwhile partner, not some lowly cur like Link. Sidon, who deserved the privilege of smothering and finally removing for good the leech that had been clinging to him for so long.

Sidon’s blinked a few times, shaking his head as though he was dazed. “No,” he breathed. “I’m not doing that.”

Link panicked. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks and he started breathing hard and ragged, trembling as more sobs wracked his slight body.

“No, p-please. Please, I j-just– I just n-need you– I need to die. I _deserve_ to die. Please. I can’t do it myself,” Link pleaded helplessly. He moved his hands to hold Sidon’s and gingerly moved them up to his throat. He wrapped them around his neck as best he could, already thrilled and excited by just the feeling of his deadly hands there, so capable of extinguishing him in a heartbeat. “It would be easy. I won’t struggle, I promise.”

“No. No, I’m not–” Sidon tore his hands away, making Link start and pull away from him. He’d fucked up. He’d upset him. That was his one rule, his one concrete, unwavering rule: Don’t upset Sidon. There were enough things and people in his life to fill that role. He didn’t need to be one of them. If anything, now he deserved to die even more. Link cowered and trembled, cursing himself for being so pushy and mean. He felt Sidon touch him lightly and he flinched. He didn’t deserve Sidon’s touch. Not him. Not now. Not when he was barely above the most detestable refuse on Earth.

“I’m sorry,” Link whimpered. “I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to upset you.” He stopped as he started crying again. Always with the crying! He was just some needy, useless bastard. Why hadn’t Sidon left him yet?

“My pearl…” Sidon said gently. Link felt him press a few fingers beneath his chin , turning his face towards his. Link trembled in his hands, sad and scared and fragile. He still felt like an untouchable in the presence of divinity, but he didn’t fight when Sidon gently encircled his arms around his thin shoulders, holding him to his chest. Link pressed into his warm firmness.

“I would never hurt you,” he murmured softly. “I promise.”

“I deserve to die,” Link whispered hoarsely. Sidon shushed him gently. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, a scared shiver rolling through him. Sidon wasn’t still upset with him, was he?

“You’re alright,” Sidon cosseted, reaching a hand up to pet at his head, smoothing back the mused hair on his forehead. He pressed a soft, chaste kiss there. “You’re alright. I’ve got you. Everything’s ok.”

Even though Link knew he didn’t deserve Sidon’s sweet words, even though he wanted nothing more than for Sidon to wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze until he was gone, he let himself melt into Sidon; let himself be comforted and soothed by his words.


	6. Viscera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that self harm warning this is what its for its no t? terribly graphic ? but i mean i have a bad grasp on what other people think about things so anyways be careful about that shit

He hides the blade in his boot.

He avoids the prying of others, their gazes, their words, their attempts at intrusion into his life. It must look odd, someone going for a bath yet shooting aside paranoid glances as though they were committing a crime. Link doesn’t care, has better things, bigger things to worry about. So he tucks the dagger into his boot. He could put it in his pack, but that worsens the aching in his bones for some indiscernible reason. The cool press of metal to thin skin comforts some monster in his belly.

He reaches the small, pristine waterfall he’d seen a few days ago and since been searching for. Crystal clear turquoise water tumbles over a short red clay cliff, pools in the tiny pond at its base and continues rushing the rest of the way down the river. Wrinkled clothes, softened by overwear and oils and too long between washings, are shed easy as a layer of old skin. The dagger is in his hand now, blade tucked up against the underside of his wrist. He is alone, he had made well sure of that, but the fear at the back of his mind of someone finding him, stumbling upon him in the middle of this, yet pervades his mind.

This bath is not for washing.

The shock of cold water brightens him, sends a tight shiver rolling through him, calls up goosebumps on his shoulders. The water’s always cold. Warmth and soothing heat are luxuries he’s given up for this.

Even the thud of the water upon his shoulders, the icy chill crawling across his ducked face with the water that runs down it and pools in the hollows of his throat, cannot stop him flinching away at the first catch of the blade on his skin, the primitive fear of pain he had spent months upon months trying to stab and slice and beat and burn out of himself, trying to familiarize himself with this new pain so he might forget the old stuff turning always in head. The blade is so sharp, carefully whetted and filed for hours just for this, that even the press of the glimmering tip into his skin is enough to make his traitorous muscles tense. Dull edges are no fun; they only make this harder.  
  
The dagger is tight, secure in his hand the second time. His fingers do not slip or shake or twitch away from him. The first bite of metal into his flesh is quick, a split second spark of electric heat that pushes a soft, strangled huff of air from him. Blood barely shows, crimson swept away by endlessly rushing water as quickly as it oozes up. It is thin, barely 2 inches long. A few more.

He does it here because anywhere else is too dangerous, calls up too much suffocating paranoia, makes his heart pound too apace and terrified against his ribs for him to ever do anything. He could never imagine even considering doing this in one of the public bath houses he’s seen dotted across Hyrule, and basins and tubs run too high their own risks of retaining incriminating evidence; a spot of scarlet missed by a rag, a pool of pinkened water where the curve of the tub does not drain quite so well. It’s safer here, quieter here, better here, for certain. Endless water swipes away blood before it can clot, carries it down and away from him and anyone or anything that might catch him in the act. His hands never come away smelling of copper like they used to; he’s never allowed to play with the stuff like he used to. There is a risk, he knows, in letting unclean water like this run over such fresh wounds, even though he compulsively cleans them afterwards. He likes to think he would welcome whatever blood poisoning he might contract if his luck should ever change.  
  
There are four of them. He wishes he could do this slower, bury the edge into his flesh the way he wants to.

The water falls so hard upon his skin it almost bruises. He wishes it would; something within him adores them as though they were things of beauty, yet this infatuation with their numb fleeting ache, their harmless splendor cannot compel him to linger in the path of a bokoblin’s club the way he knows he ought; and what he leaves with his own bony fists and the blunt ends of his weapons and whatever good sized rock he can find are pathetic and ugly things.  
  
Just a few more. His back is numb.

Different angle, different press. Skin stretched between two fingers splits like a crack in dried mud; a wretched mocking smile as a product of his own suffering. The hunching he must do–how idiotic to do it on his arms, yet how tantalizing it seems!–hurts his spine. There is no blood. The water about his ankles, trapped and spinning over and over itself with currents too weak to carry it away, has become salmon, pink like the sky during sunset. A kick of the foot, sweep of the leg clears it easily.

What is it, of this, that he enjoys so much? The pain? But the burning, hair pulling, freezing, beating he had tried–attempts to find something less incriminating, less scarring–had not worked, had never satisfied the hollow hunger in his belly, hand always yanked from the embers, glowing hot arrow head dropped a second too soon to leave more than a tiny hideous blister; frigid numbness doing nothing to dissipate the ache in his chest and only making useless his feet. The blood? Perhaps. His favorite ones, the ones he preferred were the ones that bled; the thick, wide numb ones weeping hot, stinking, oily blood from the vessel he’d severed all over yellow and white bubbles of fat, the thin winding ones that dashed through innumerably many capillaries and oozed stinging, blistering carmine for what always seemed like hours.

But then what of the mottled patches of disfiguration on his thighs, where he’d done little more than rake his dull nail over and over and over the same spot of flesh until the skin was gone and each scrape stung more than the last? What were those for? He was no longer sure. He thinks he once knew. He’d thought so months ago.

The skin between and about them hurts, flushed by their radiating heat. There is no blood. They sting, but he does not notice. There is no pain, none where he can’t stand it. This pain is different; sharper, hotter, worse, better than the guilt and the shame and the sorrow that blackens his mind at all hours. This, the stinging, the burning, the damage, the blood, muffles it; mutes it, puts it on hold; freezes it in its tracks for a short while so that he might be able to just breathe and rest and exist for once. It stops for him the worst parts of this endless battle.

He wades back to shore. The pads of his fingers have become wrinkled from so long in the water. His spine and his skin and his head all ache. He does not care. His back is numb. His leg is not.

Soft, soaking skin is dried carefully, moisturized with a bit of lotion he’d splurged on in Gerudo Town. Clothes are slipped on, pale, winding scars hidden. These new things are so thin, and there are so few, there is no need for bandages. And how much better they would be if he allowed them to rub against his pants, become hot, angry irritated things he can hardly ignore.

As he stands, the thin film settled over the wounds, smeared and dried platelets, jars, cracks, splits apart. A miniscule tear of crimson oozes out, soaks into his pant leg. There is blood.

He hides the blade in his boot.


	7. its here its porn and its self indulgent as fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit oh boy more porn ft. dpd link again damn luv tht anxious mother fucker

Link found himself gazing up at Sidon, eyes wide and soft and full of love. He’d intended to sleep, so exhausted from the day he’d been falling asleep on the drive home, but Sidon had after a few minutes come to join him in their bedroom, reading and keeping to himself so as not to disturb him. But just his presence itself had roused him, sending hot, jittering excitement rushing through his veins. His eyes followed the familiar jut of his jaw, the firm curve of his cheekbones, the smooth, warm, flawless cinnamon skin, the pretty, absentminded purse of his precious lips. He could just barely see slivers of his powerful, burning eyes, cast down and obscured by his dark, lush eyelashes as he read. Link felt his heart swell.

A moment later, he found those molten eyes looking into his, golden gaze kind and amused. Link started, shaken from his haze by shock. He cut his eyes away from him, cheeks burning something fierce. He found himself doing this far too often it seemed, becoming hopelessly lost in Sidon’s sheer beauty; he had to have found it bothersome by now, always looking up and finding Link’s hollow, love clouded gaze boring into him. The anxiety burning in his chest was extinguished some when he heard Sidon chuckle, a low, graveled sound that rumbled warmly deep in his chest and stirred something tight within Link’s belly.

“You’re alright, darling,” Sidon mused. “You weren’t bothering me.” Link reddened further. He hated how predictable he always was. Link curled in on himself, rubbing his blazing cheek into his pillow.

Sidon was quiet for a moment, considering him, before he bent down the corner of his page and set his book aside. “Come here,” he murmured, smoothing his hand over the comforter beside him. “I just realized, I haven’t seen you all day.”

Link obeyed easily, sitting up and crawling over to Sidon. He sat back on his heels, some fetid, quivering piece of him swooning to think Sidon wanted him, desired him enough to ask him closer. Briefly, he panicked, suddenly unsure of where he should place his hands. Behind him? Beside him? But what if Sidon wished to take them, hold them in his own and press them to his lips the way he sometimes did? On his thighs, then. But what if that was wrong too? Link didn't have much time to worry, luckily, for as soon as he was near Sidon curled an arm around his waist, gently tugging him closer until their sides were flush. He reached his free hand up to cup his cheek, fingers curled against the underside of Link’s soft jaw, thumb petting gingerly at the skin beneath Link’s eye. A soft, radiant smile came over Sidon’s lips, and Link felt himself melt. His eyes fluttered shut as Sidon pressed forward to kiss him, lifting his hand to rest it on Sidon’s warm chest. Link softened his mouth, remained pliant and obedient to let Sidon do with him what he pleased. The kiss was simple, soft and sweet and chaste; the kind that made Link’s heart flutter noisily in his chest. When Sidon pulled away--not but a centimeter; just enough to breathe--Link’s cheeks were flushed again. The second kiss was more--harder, hungrier, more desperate, stirring the pit of heat in his belly more hotly. Link trembled at the first swipe of Sidon’s tongue against his bottom lip, opened his mouth immediately and graciously, binding back a soft hum low in his throat. He let his hand on Sidon’s chest curl into a loose fist, catching up the hot fabric of his shirt in his palm. His exploration of the familiar wet corners of Link’s mouth was gentler, shied away from the possessive hunger he tended towards, but nonetheless when he ducked away to snatch a short breath, Link had already started to come apart at the seams, hand fisted tightly in Sidon’s shirt, breath coming hot and needy from his throat. Sidon went back in for another kiss, this time pressing the two of them back until Link’s shoulders touched the bed. Link squirmed beneath his weight, rent shivers rolling down his spine. When Sidon finally pulled back again, ducking down to nip at the pale skin of his neck, his chest was heaving, head spinning dizzyingly, already hot and hard between his legs.

Sidon slowed down a bit, pressing slow, wet kisses to the stretch of skin curving down towards his shoulder. He reached a hand up to dive it through his hair, teasing free the hair tie that had held it away from his face all day and tousling his soft golden tresses. Link closed his eyes, sighing hotly when Sidon’s nails scraped against his scalp. Sidon shifted to press a warm kiss to Link’s cheek.

“Hi,” he murmured, lips spreading in a smile against his skin.

“Hi.” Link couldn't stop the grin that overtook his own features. Something stirred powerfully within his chest and he craned his head to the side, suddenly desperate to lay eyes upon his lover. Link’s breath halted in his throat when he saw Sidon, perfect lips wet and curled into a heart stopping smile, cheeks darkened beneath brown skin. His blazing hair had been mused by their activities, some of it coming undone from the braid he'd woven it into, falling across his face. Link blinked slowly, dazed by how beautiful he was, how utterly flawless he was. He looked like a sculpture, a work of art crafted so very carefully by the hands of a god. How lucky he was to be desired by someone like this, someone so holy as he! Just the thought of it made his heart stammer in his chest, beating so hard and full of adoration it felt it could burst. When Sidon kissed his tingling lips again, slow and hungry and powerful, he whimpered and a restless, wanting shiver rolled through him. He hooked his arms around Sidon's neck, ever so gently tugging him closer, wrestling the jittery frantic ball of emotion turning over and over in his chest. His back arched off the bed when Sidon’s hands roamed down his chest, wandering beneath his shirt to brush over his belly. The sudden stir of infatuation had made him sensitive to his touch, goosebumps rising on his arms when his burning hands ghosted over his pale skin.

Sidon pressed another long, loving kiss to Link's lips after he lifted his shirt up and over his head, humming happily low in his throat at the way his lover shook with desperation at just that, grabbing feebly at the loose hairs at the base of his neck. He heard Link gasp in a trembling breath when he pulled away, voice twisting and hitching when he began working at his neck again, this time kneading gently at the soft flesh about his hips, where his pants had ridden down a few centimeters.

“You're always so good to me,” Sidon murmured against his skin, pressing warm kisses down neck to his shoulder and then to the rising slope of his chest, beneath the curve of his clavicle. “So, so good to me.”

Link’s heart thrummed excitedly in his chest at Sidon's words, a quivering smile coming over his face. He was! He'd been trying so, so hard for so long to be good to him, be good for him so he didn't have to add worrying about him to his undoubtedly endless list of responsibilities. Sidon, loving him, adoring him, serving him, was the one thing that would always sustain him, that would always give him something to live for no matter how dark and turbulent the waters of his mind became. He was the one buoy to which Link would always be bound by unbreakable thread.

“You always do so much for me,” Sidon continued, kissing his way down Link’s narrow chest, hands on either side of his heaving ribcage. “I can't believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Link closed his eyes, a hot, slow breath tumbling from his slack jawed mouth. His voice hitched into a soft whimper as Sidon found and took one of his nipples into his mouth, lapping at it and rolling it gingerly between his teeth until it hardened. Link gasped sharply, his arms around Sidon’s neck twitching to pull him closer to him as electric shivers shocked through him. A moment later, head still spinning, Link felt Sidon pepper soft kisses down his belly, stopping just short of the brush of feathery hair above his groin. His presence there, so tantalizingly close to where he knew he was already gushing precum, made him press his face into the pillow, cheeks blazing. If he had been better, braver, less skittish to Sidon’s disapproval, he might have asked him to continue, to roam further and touch him where he was aching, stroke him until he was even messier between his legs, maybe even take him into his mouth the way Link so often did to him. But Link didn't dare be so demanding with him. That wasn't what he was here for. He was meant to give Sidon pleasure, make sure he was always satisfied in every possible way; sex was no exception. Sidon liked to insist otherwise, but Link knew it was easier for both of them if this was how it was. It was easier if he thought of himself this way: little more than something soft and warm and obedient for Sidon to fuck. His own pleasure was irrelevant. Sidon, flawless and perfect as he was always managed to tease an orgasm out of Link, but he would not-- _could_ not ask Sidon to do anything just for him, go out of his way just to satisfy him. It was, in his mind, unfair, unthinkable even.

Link was shaken from his thoughts by Sidon fussing about his groin again, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding them down his legs. Link let him and when he felt his hand return to palm at his crotch, he rolled his head back, a soft moan escaping him. He automatically threw his legs apart for him when he felt Sidon’s hot hand slide over the curve of his thigh, press gently into the soft flesh to coax them apart. As Sidon kneaded at his cock, slow and sweet and careful, stoking further the fire turning wildly in his chest, it occurred to him with a shock that Sidon might have been doing this for him, to get him off rather than for his own amusement. Panic spasmed in Link’s mind and he twisted, knees pressing together, shrinking away from Sidon as best he could, hand reaching to grope blindly for his wrist to stop him.

“You don't--” Link sputtered, cheeks flaring hotly. How could he have been so stupid? How hadn't he realized what Sidon was doing? How had he let him continue for so long, let him think his pleasure meant anything at all? “Y-you don't have to if you don't want to, I'm--”

Sidon shushed him gently, pressing his lips to his burning temple and his hand to the center of his heaving chest. Link stopped, an awkward, frenetic tremble running through him. There was a mess in him now, a tangled knot of worry and want and paranoia that kept winding and winding itself tighter, trying to figure what all Link had done wrong and how best to redress it. Sidon moved his hand to cup Link’s cheek, palm firm and smooth against his skin. Another kiss, soft and loving and sweet, brought him back around, quieted for a moment the waters that had been stirred within him. Link squeezed his eyes shut, turned his face minutely away in shame.

“You're alright,” Sidon whispered warmly, voice mellow and low and gravelled, balanced enough to calm Link without exciting him further. “It's alright. You haven't done anything wrong. You're ok.” He felt Link shiver beneath him and he quieted him again, pressing feathery kisses to his temple. “I do want this. I promise. I want you.”

Link let out a soft, shuddering breath, lifting a hand to gingerly lay it atop the one on his chest. Sidon let him tangle their fingers together and press them to the spot over his heart. It was an angle he hadn't considered, had only passed over once in his frantic calculations: that Sidon wanted to touch him because he wanted to see him like this, shivering and clinging to him and whimpering his name. It made more sense to him, soothed a bit the hot, trembling part of his mind. This was fine, wasn't it? Everyone was happy like this. It made it easier to relax, easier to lose himself in the pleasure if he knew this was for Sidon. Link had touched himself for Sidon before, let him tell him where and how and what to touch while he watched, moaned loud and high and pretty the way he knew Sidon liked when he came; that had been fine, exciting even at the idea of performing for him. This could no different, if not even better, now that Sidon was the one in control.

Link relaxed into Sidon’s embrace, letting his head loll to the side so that he might catch a glimpse of Sidon’s face. He appeared calm and collected, eyes cool and half lidded, yet, almost imperceptibly, hungry and wanting. He pressed a slow kiss to Link’s forehead when their eyes met, all the while letting his hand travel back down to Link’s crotch. Link let out a soft whimper when he felt his hand slip beneath the band of his underwear, delicious skin on skin contact making him jump. Link moaned against the hollow of Sidon’s throat when he wrapped his long, skilled fingers around his cock, slowly stroking up and down its length. Link had softened some in his panic, and the turbulence in his mind had dulled his senses earlier; the soothing lull of Sidon’s voice and his hands upon him had been enough to coax him back to full hardness and now he could feel every delicious second of contact.

“Such a good boy,” Sidon murmured against Link’s skin. “Such a good, good boy for me.”

Link bit his lip, stifling a trembling moan in the back of his throat when he ran his thumb over the blood hot head of his cock, dragging down the foreskin and swiping away a bead of precum. A moment later, Sidon had taken his hand away, resting on the soft mound of flesh above his cock and curling lazily between his fingers the feathery hair growing there, cooing sweet nothing into Link’s hair when he whimpered and squirmed at the sudden loss of sensation.

“I want to hear you,” Sidon breathed. “The sounds you make are so beautiful. I want to hear every single one of them. Could you? For me?”

Link nodded, body tingling and boneless. A moment later, a sharp gasp escaped him, twisted into a tight moan when Sidon wrapped his hand around his cock again, quickly and deftly stroking him with a skillful flick of his wrist. Link grabbed at Sidon’s chest, thighs shivering and twitching to press back together. He rolled his head back on the pillow, mouth slack and gasping for air at just the brush of Sidon’s hand on his inner thigh, keeping his legs spread for him.

“My good, beautiful boy…”

Link’s head spun, made dizzy from pleasure and the syrupy sweetness of Sidon’s words. He'd never received this much attention, this much focus on himself before; had never had Sidon spend so long fawning over him like this without returning the attention to him. It was new, glaringly, startlingly new, edging on uncomfortable. Had he been in a clearer state of mind, he might have shied away from so much attention, tried to turn the focus onto Sidon to dispel it the way he usually did. But Sidon’s hands were so skilled, so deft and deliberate with all their motions, worked so well to gently tease apart the knot of worry in his chest, all the while winding further the pit of rolling head seated in his belly. All he could do was cling to him, gasping and whimpering into his chest as his hands roamed.

Sidon had, since they begun, been slowly but surely quickening his pace; sometimes he sped suddenly, quick, practiced flicks of his wrists drawing loud quivering sounds from Link’s throat, and sometimes he slowed down to something excruciating and frustrating that made Link writhe beneath him, hips jerking weakly up into Sidon’s fist, but he was always moving gradually faster. Link was a mess in his arms, gushing precum, cheeks flushed a pretty pink, voice wavering and tight. He had been quieter before, groans and whines reserved for when Sidon did something particularly stirring, but at the pace he had settled at his stream of moans was constantly, pitching higher when Sidon stopped to work at the head of his prick, stopping and stammering when he slowed. The churning heat behind his belly grew and tightened with each stroke, making Link’s head spin and his hips twitching further into Sidon’s grasp. He'd felt close for what seemed like an eternity now, perpetually on the edge of an orgasm, but Sidon, skilled, perfect Sidon, had been able to delay it, slowing down or even stopping when he thought Link was especially close to coming undone, kissing apologies into his hot neck and petting his thigh to calm the desperate motion of his hips.

“Such a good boy,” Sidon had murmured, hand returning to cup and toy with his balls, forcing Link’s head back on the pillow, mouth agape as he moaned loud and long to the ceiling. “Just a bit longer. You've been so good.” Link had only trembled, calmed a bit by Sidon’s words. He'd been showering him with praise the entire time, shushing him when his cries became frustrated and broken, cooing affectionately at him when he was good, when he was pretty and pliant for him. He was too far gone now to care much, too sensitive to every touch and stroke, too lost in his own pleasure.

Sidon pressed kisses along his neck, lingering at the curve of his shoulder. “How beautiful you are… You're close, aren't you?”

Link nodded, head full of fuzz, Sidon's voice sounding as though he were speaking through a wall. He was perpetually canting his hips up into Sidon’s hand, desperate to come; Sidon didn't seem to care now. He spread a hot hand on Link’s heaving chest, leaning down to press a kiss to his trembling lips. Link weakly kissed him back, moaning sharply against his mouth when Sidon thumbed at the head of his cock again.

“Please don't hold back.” The two were so close their lips brushed as he spoke. “I want to hear every pretty little sound you make.”

Link nodded wildly, eyes squeezed shut, his entire body hot and tingling and shivering as he tried to time the jerking of his hips with Sidon’s strokes, so desperate for release it almost hurt. At the same time, Sidon quickened his pace, stroking him almost faster than his hips could keep up, pulling tight, wanton cries from him as he drew him closer and closer to orgasm until finally, deliciously, Link stiffened beneath him, back arched off the bed and head thrown back, arms locked like a vice around Sidon’s neck, mouth frozen agape in a high, quivering cry. The world around him dimmed, every sound muffled as though his ears had been stuffed with cotton, darkness swallowing him as his eyes slammed shut. The heat in his belly had finally unwound itself, swelling and growing and invading every corner of his body until it felt like he was floating in a blurry, hot, electrifying mess. Every inch of skin, every nerve was ablaze with such raw, utter sensation, so much, _too_ much it seemed for himself or his body to contain. His pink chest heaved, lungs expanded and drawing huge, wavering breaths into his wrecked shivering body. His hips twitched and convulsed weakly, so lost in pleasure that his muscles shook. Slowly, surely, he came back down, deafened ears slowly coming back in tune with the world, enough so that he could hear Sidon’s ginger cosseting and his own overwhelmed tears over their ringing. He felt Sidon give his softened cock a few slow strokes, sending a tight shiver through him, before he moved to smooth his hand against his belly, petting lovingly at his hot, sticky skin.

“Oh, what a good boy you've been for me,” Sidon cooed, voice warm and and soft and sweet, stirring within him a different kind of heat. He cupped Ink’s cheek, thumbing away the hot, endless tears that rolled across them. “Shh. Shh, you're alright. You're ok. I'm here.” He pressed ginger, chaste kisses to the hot flesh of his shoulder, working his way up his neck to his cheek. “Such a good, beautiful boy. I love you so much.”

Link was too out of it, too utterly spent and limp to leap up and cry “I love you too” the way he usually did, but he tried, weakly tugged Sidon closer so he could brush his lips over the smooth skin of his cheek. Sidon gently coaxed his head to the side, tilting his own so they could actually kiss. It was gentle and sweet and full of love, enough to quell the emotion that had begun to churn in his chest. In spite of it, wetness welled up in his eyes, enough to send a single tear streaming across his face as he gazed up at Sidon, so beautiful, so reverent that his hazy, affected mind could hardly comprehend that he was truly real, that Link was truly his.

Sidon pressed another kiss to Link’s hot forehead and turned away, fussing about his knees to pull back up his underwear and slip it back on him. As soon as he had, Link shifted towards him, wrapping limp arms around his powerful frame, pressing into his firm warmth. Sidon smiled, a soft chuckle rumbling quietly in his chest, as he held Link’s slight form. He braced one hand against his back, letting the other rest tangled in his mussed blond locks. He bent his head down to affectionately kiss the top of Link’s head.

Link relaxed into Sidon’s embrace, mind and body satiated and calmed by his touch and his presence. He tried to let himself drift off, perhaps even take the nap he'd wanted to, but even now he couldn't help peeling an eye open every so often to gaze up at Sidon.

His heart thrummed in his chest.


	8. would you like some dpd link x ganon for your woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i said this was a sidlink fic im a goddamn liar!!!!! heres some ganlink !!! its a guilty pleasure i dont ship it for anything other reason than The Angst™ so if thts a concern 2 u dont worry i dont do much w it 'less its Real Depression Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh uhh this requires a lotta context so heres the gist links still got dpd but this time his dp is ganon n things r great btwn them up until link accidentally gets pregnant (hes also trans ? idk i 4got that detail but) n links like,, dont wanna do That thats no bueno but ganons super excited ig bc hes always wanted a kid n in short forces link to keep it/doesnt let him get an abortion or anything and its super shitty bc being pregnant is hard anyways n its harder when ur trans n u dont even want it in the first place!! n so all this shitty stuff reaches its climax n link tries to kill himself n its Real Bad n he ? well he doesnt kill himself but he Does end up killin the baby which both of them are real fucked up about but especially ganon who assumes that link did it On Purpose n hes shitty abt that but eventually he gets the idea in his head of trying to get him pregnant Again but that dont work n ganon realizes tht link aint givin him a kid n gets all shitty and frustrated n just ? up and leaves link n thats real bad bc thats ! his fuckin dp !! he Needs him!! so thats real painful n shitty n that last part of ganon leaving him thats what this is. its really just 1200 words i banged out when i was in an icky mood that i still wanted The World 2 see so if its bad thats why....... idk enjoy

“I’m leaving.”

 

The world seemed to grind to a halt around Link. The idly spinning air, the hum of the fridge, the battering of his heart, the blood in his veins, all seemed to sputter to a stop, die down to silence, freeze and still and hang heavy in the air as Ganon’s gaze burned into Link’s, foul and tight and cold. This was not real. It could not be real. 

 

And then Ganon moved. And everything came whirring back to cold, reanimated life. It was silent. His ears were numb. His chest felt like a vice, ribs clenching around his heart, squeezing the air from his lungs, stealing the power from all his muscles. To turn around, to stumble after him as he stalked into the hallway seemed to take an eternity and a half. He reached feebly for him, hands small, pale, weak, thin fingers trembling despite the terrible heat of all of this. 

 

“Please.” His voice was soft, shattered, blasted into a billion infinitesimal shards of sorrow, tight and sputtering in his throat. Just this had left him breathless. Ganon ignored him easily. He finally caught up to him, watched him shove clothes into a duffle bag with such an intensity it seemed easy to Link to imagine it was him he really wished to crush in those deadly fingers.

 

“D-- Don’t. Please.” It was awful to hear himself, to hear the mournful pleading in his voice, feel the blistering desperation coursing through him, burning at his skin, tearing careful claws through the weakest parts of him, of his heart. “Please. Please.” Ganon let him touch him, let him dig his deplorable fingers into the hot, horrible brown skin of his forearm, let him flinch away at the flex of the thick, ropey muscle beneath. His hand curled in his shirt, held the fabric in a shivering palm, crushed by trembling fingers. “Don’t— I love you. I love you. I love you so much, please. Please. Don’t—” 

 

Link couldn't keep up, couldn’t do anything but cling to him as he collected his things, shoved them messily into his bag. His face was tight, tension caught up in all the worst places on him, but there was little more than that. He held his fury in his body, in the high, tautness of his shoulders, in the crackling power threatening to explode from him with every motion, every step, every turn. 

 

“I’ll d— I’ll do anything, I promise, whatever you want, just don’t— Please, Ganon, don’t—.” He was panting now, made breathless by the sheer agony in his chest. There was no air in his lungs, no air anywhere in the room, anywhere in the world, no matter how many mouthfuls he gulped down. His head was dizzy. His grip was weak, so weak.

 

“Anything.” Ganon’s voice was cruel, laced with poison and full of hate. “Anything. You’ll do anything? Bring her back.” It pushed the warmth, the heat, the vitality from Link’s blood, tore a dagger through his frail heart. “Bring back the daughter you murdered. Bring her back to me.  _ Give _ me back the child you stole from me, and then I’ll stay.”

 

Link trembled at his words, his breath dying in his throat and hot, sickening guilt overcoming him, filling his stomach with fetid, rotting things. The tears collected in his eyes fell, rolled easily and pathetically down the curve of his cheeks, ran together and collected at his shivering, wrinkled chin. He watched Ganon turn, sheer, crushing anger wafting from him like heat from an iron; move to sift through the bottles and pens and papers on their dresser. His breath came in gasps, high and tight and terrified as he reached feebly for him, his rock, his lifeline, his Ganon, again. 

 

“I’m sorry.” They were choked out through a sob, through the fat heavy rotten tears staining his cheeks, wetting the front of his shirt, stealing his voice from his very throat, clawing monstrously at the very spark within his heart. “I’m sorry. Please. Please. Please, Ganon, I’m— I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I didn’t— I didn’t mean to, you have t— You— I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! I’ll g-give you another one, I promise! I’ll— We can— We can have a daughter. I’ll keep her safe, I’ll have her, sh— She’ll be perfect. She’ll be perfect. She’ll be yours. Please, just don’t— Don’t! Please! Ganon—”

 

His silence was deafening. The boiling panic rising his his throat only burned hotter as Ganon left their bedroom, his bedroom, as it now seemed. He shoved shoes onto his feet, ripped his coat—the expensive, lush leather one Link had seen him in when they first met, the one that smelled like cologne and car wax and money, the one he had tucked around himself innumerably many times, the one that seemed on him like a second skin—from the closet. A newfound strength in Link let him wrap cold, bony fingers around Ganon’s arm, let him sink his desperate nails into his murderous arm. 

 

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t, please. Please! Please, God, don’t—! Ganon— Please. I’m s—”

 

“Get your  _ fucking _ hands off of me!”

 

Link was thrown back, some force kicking him in the  chest hard enough to steal his very breath from his lungs. Sheer, visceral power rolled off his very form, made Link’s knees buckle in terror, let him crumble pathetically at Ganon’s feet, loud, terrified sobs choked from his gaping mouth, filling the room to bursting with wretched sorrow, deaf yet to Ganon’s ears. His gaze was venom, the same golden things that had once held so much love, so much affection, so much desire for him now bleeding only cold, bloody hatred, hard and hollow and as painful as any strike he could have given him. Link’s tears became tight, softened and fatigued and desperate, so terribly, breathlessly desperate he could scarcely think.

 

“Please don’t leave.” He was too weak to stand. He fought to keep himself there, to keep his head above the water that was so quickly coming to overtake him. “Please don’t leave. Pl—” The heaviness in his chest, perched and concentrated right on his breastbone, right over his heart, crushed his ribs in its grip, strangled the words in his mouth. He could barely work down even half a mouthful of air. He was certain he was dying. Something had died inside him already. “Please. Please. Don’t. Don’t— Don’t leave me. Please.  _ Please _ .”

 

Link just missed the soft metallic jangle of his keys, the scrape as he turned the lock, opened the door. His chest heaved greatly, sucked down a huge lungful of air, let him curl in further, forehead nearly touching the ground, tears flowing together to drip from his nose and pool on the hardwood.

 

“Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Pl—.”

 

The door slammed shut. Suddenly, inexplicably, the house felt a dozen degrees colder, a thousand times bigger, a million times heavier. The only warm thing inside it was not so, was already cooling, was already rotting. The only warm thing inside was left, left kneeling, left with pathetic, deplorable sobs tearing from its horrid throat, left echoing in its own ears. The only thing within was without; the only thing within was alone. 


	9. more dpd link but no context this time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is this  
> i wrote a couple hundred words and i thought they were good and wanted you to read them  
> please do

Link’s breath came hot and terrified in his throat, tumbling and tripping over itself as it huffed harshly from his shivering mouth, shallow and dizzying in his throat. Hands, tight, scared, clawed and fisted in his hair, dug into his scalp, tore sharp nails into his flesh, pressed and pressed and pressed until the pain gave way to numbness, until he felt the skin beneath his fingernails give a bit, wetness dampening his fingertips. His teeth had caught his bottom lip between them, grinding and biting down terribly, enough for acrid, salty copper to blossom on the tip of his tongue, leach its way into every corner of his mouth. 

 

He was in love with him, with Sidon, with the concept of him. He was so dazed, so infatuated, so devoted it made him dizzy; he was so deeply embroiled in such profound adoration it made him tremble. He was utterly pliant to his will, wholly submissive to his every whim, so sickeningly  _ dependent _ on him. There was nothing without him; he did not exist apart from him. The parts of him he thought were his own were not, he knew. They were the good parts, the best parts of Sidon, parts he had long since selfishly absorbed into himself and adulterated until they were almost unrecognizable. He was some wretched, feverish thing, some horrible amalgam of the debased, corrupted essence of Sidon. He was not himself. He was not his own. He was nothing. He was an illusion.

 

Oh, how it made him shiver to wonder why he had stayed for so long, why he had tolerated the presence of one so horrible as he! Certainly there were other people, others who wanted him, others he could love, others who would not cling to him like lichen to a rock. Certainly, he could find someone who would not need to be scraped off, who would not need to be torn off; one whose claws did not need to unhooked from his flesh, who did not need to be beat back with a stick. Surely, he could find someone better, someone much more--infinitely more--worthwhile. 

 

But what was he without him? He was his essence, his being, the very vitality pulsing through his veins; he would perish without him, it was a simple, indisputable fact. So much of him was driven, stirred, enlivened by only him, his holiness, his benevolence, his radiant, bursting goodness. He loved him! He  _ adored  _ him! He was absolutely, horrendously consumed with it! Every fiber of his being, every molecule, every atom of him shaking and thrumming with percussive infatuation, hot and blistering and constantly overwhelming, too big for words, too much for any human tongue to describe. What was there to fret over in his arms? What was there to weigh on his mind under his gaze? What evils could reach him when those godly hands graced his skin? What else was there to concern himself with when that soft, kind mouth met his? What malice could harden him when all that meant to him was Sidon?

 

He knew it was a sickness. He knew this devotion would kill him, was killing him, had killed him before. There was, he knew, someone else before Sidon, someone darker and harder and tighter, someone who had tossed away his loving arms when he wrapped them around him, who had let him tear himself to shreds trying to appease him, who had taken and taken and taken from Link, mercilessly, mindlessly, unflinchingly, until there was nothing more in him; until he was little more than a rotting, self-shackled slave. When he finally left, made bored by Link’s hollow, scraped out self, it had still been agony; had still stung and burned and screamed like a knife torn from a leg, an arrow ripped from a side. Others, they had heralded it as a good thing, an opportunity for him to heal, to improve himself, for him to remember himself and take his life into his own hands. But how could he heal when there was nothing of him left? How could he rebuild if there was nothing to hold him up, nothing to structure himself upon, nothing upon which to rest even a bit of the terrible weight of living? How was he to exist on his own?

 

Link knew this was the end goal of him and Sidon. This was where it always ended. It was how it had to end. The two had been together for as long as Link cared to remember, a great many months longer than that last lover, long enough a time to make his heart hum and warble happily in his chest. But no matter how long it persisted, no matter how long Sidon might tolerate his wretched presence, it was inevitably going to end. It always did. It had to. And that was what terrified him the most profoundly, the manner by which things would sour between them, the speed with which things would decay.


	10. oh a commission !!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey another commission !! this is for skenandj on tumblr ! it is in 4 parts lol here is the first one its just porn

Link’s eyes fluttered shut, letting his head tip back against Sidon’s shoulder as his hands roamed over his body. He started, bit back a quiet moan when they slid beneath his shirt to tease at his nipples. He let a soft, wavering whimper slip from him as Sidon let his hands reach further down, smoothing over his pale thigh to press between his legs. Link threw them apart easily, rolling his head to the side to pant hotly against Sidon’s neck at the brush of teasing fingers across the trembling skin of his inner thighs. He moaned quietly, all his senses heightened and tingling.

 

“How beautiful you are,” Sidon mused sweetly, craning his head to press warm lips to his forehead. “Simply exquisite.”

 

Sidon’s words wound something in Link, made something tighten in his belly and made him grow even harder between his legs. All the while Sidon’s hands had been straying closer and closer to his groin, tantalizingly close to his aching cock, yet still so painfully far away. Link rolled his hips weakly, trying to entice Sidon to touch.

 

If he noticed, he didn't say. Sidon let his eyes travel slowly down Link’s naked body in his lap, following the curve of his hipbones, the tiniest soft bit of fat that had collected at the very bottom of his belly, the blush that was crawling down his chest, far enough that the skin above and about his nipples was dusted a pretty shade of pink. And of course, the best part of him: his soft little cock, presently standing and straining at full attention, the head peeking from his foreskin just as red as his cheeks, a miniscule bead of precum already perched on the tip. Sidon grinned, nosed Link’s head off his shoulder so he could press a slow, buzzing kiss to his neck, lapping slowly at the skin the way he knew made Link shake.

 

“Such utter perfection,” Sidon breathed, lips brushing Link’s skin as he spoke. He pursed his lips, slowly and sweetly kissing him. His voice was low, rumbled deliciously in Link’s ear when he spoke. “Touch yourself for me.”

 

Link obeyed, hands sliding down his own quivering body to grasp desperately at his cock, grinding his palm against his crotch before wrapping his fingers around himself. A hot moan curled from his throat and his eyes fluttered shut, body arching slightly against Sidon’s. Sidon watched hungrily, unable to tear his eyes away as Link stroked himself, familiar movements made hasty and erratic by Sidon's teasing. Sidon closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to the pulse thundering in Link’s neck.

 

“Easy,” he murmured. His one hand found Link’s wrist, lightly petting him to slow him down while the other came up to splay against Link’s chest, right over his heart. “Slowly, now. We've got time. It'll be better if you're patient.”

 

Link stopped abruptly, squeezing his cock and rolling hips back against Sidon. He was achingly hard now, so much so he felt he could sob, and being gentle with himself only worsened the crackling tightness in his belly. Sidon probably knew that, how difficult this was for him, what with the kisses he was pressed to his pink cheeks and the warm praise he cooed into his ear. Link let out a soft breath, twisting his head to the side to invite Sidon’s mouth back to his neck. He shook when he did, painfully slow kisses at the upward curve of his neck sending electricity through him, enough to furrow his brow and draw a shivering huff of air from him. His hand on his cock squeezed slowly, dragging his fist up its length so he could run his thumb about the hot, gushing head. He reeled, breath hitching high in his throat, another sputtering groan pushed from him.

 

“What a beautiful boy you are,” Sidon purred, hand stroking absentmindedly at the bony stretch of skin between Link’s pecs. “Just like that. Keep going.”

 

Link obeyed, pulling himself apart with practiced flicks and turns of his wrist, neck blushing with the knowledge of Sidon’s eyes on him. Sidon continued praising him, showering him in sweet, lingering kisses and touches whenever he did something particularly stirring, gently shushing and calming him if he became too rough with himself for his liking. All the while, Sidon let his hands wander everywhere but where they both knew Link desperately wanted, finding and teasing cruelly at all the places Sidon knew drove Link mad. Soon, he was putty in his hands, squirming and writhing under his own touch, yet letting Sidon's name spill from his lips. He tried feebly to draw Sidon in, found his hands at one point and tugged them minutely closer to his cock, attempting to entice him to help. Sidon had gently taken his hands back, letting one smooth up his trembling thigh while the other pressed flat against the soft bit of flesh above his cock, kneading gingerly at the skin.

 

“You can do it,” Sidon had whispered, lips so near Link’s ear it made it twitch. “I want to watch you finish yourself.”

 

Link had closed his eyes, hot frustration rolling through him. It was abandoned easily, too caught up in his pleasure to care. He rolled his hips into his tight fist, the slick sound of his precum stirring something in his belly and burning his ears red hot. His breath came wet and quick and heavy in his throat, furnishing a constant stream of moans and trembling cries from his slackened mouth.

 

“You're doing so good,” Sidon purred against his neck, hand slithering up to toy with a hardened nipple, teasing from him a sharp, breathy whimper. “What a pretty, pretty boy you are.”

 

Link craned his head back, brow tight and drawn and eyes squeezed shut. Distantly, hazily, he yearned for Sidon’s touch, his strong fingers rubbing him, stroking him, teasing him apart at the seams the special way only he could. His own touch was never, had never been as good, as deft, as warm as Sidon’s, could never reduce him to the gushing mess Sidon could. Yet somehow, here he was, writhing and trembling, so desperate to come it almost hurt, without Sidon ever having laid a finger on his cock.

 

“How beautiful.” Sidon's voice was warm and sweet above him, low and gravelled enough for Link to feel the soft rumble of it in his chest. “You must be close, hmm?”

 

Link nodded, brow knit tightly together. He had slowed some, kneading and squeezing his cock just enough to keep himself alert, but not enough to tip over the edge just yet. Not before Sidon told him to. He craned his head back, searching for Sidon’s burning eyes, his gaze made unfocused and sluggish in his intoxicated daze.

 

“Please,” Link whimpered, voice choked and quivering, hips shuddering and rolling impatiently in his lap.

 

Sidon was quiet for a moment, gazing down at the wrecked, delicious mess that was his lover, cheeks blazing a hot fiery red, legs tossed wantonly apart, sweaty brow knit in concentration and sheer pleasure. Something stirred within Sidon, and he hummed softly, low and deep in his throat so that it rumbled in his chest.

 

“So, so beautiful,” he breathed, hand reaching to lay over Link’s and quicken his lazy, careful stroking. Link reeled beneath him, arching against Sidon’s chest, a tight, trembling moan winding from him. “If only you could know how lovely you look right now.”

 

Link’s mind spun, made loud and cacophonous by the warmth, the weight, the assurance of Sidon’s hand and this sudden new pace. His hips twitched beneath him, fucking feebly into his and Sidon’s hands. The moans spilling from him were loud and high and deplorable, pitching higher and higher as the knot in his belly grew tighter and tighter, so wonderfully, so dizzyingly so that Link almost missed it when Sidon finally uttered his command.

 

“Come for me.”

 

Link cried out as he came, loud and shimmering and deafening, every nerve ablaze with sheer overwhelming electricity. His back arched up from Sidon’s chest, head thrown back onto his shoulder, legs trembling tautly. Each twitch of his hips, each heave of his chest, each clench of his fist sent another blinding wave through him, pulling from his ravaged throat endless whimpers and gasps. Sidon’s hand was splayed in the center of his chest, holding him in place with each new pulse of his orgasm, feeling the way his ribcage stretched and rose with each shallow gulp of air. He petted soft, soothing circles into Link’s hot skin as he slowly spun back down, hand still curled and trembling on his softening cock. He shushed gingerly his dizzy, shivering gasps for air, ghosted his lips over his cheek to gently lap up the infatuated tears that had eked from the corners of his eyes.

 

“What a good boy you’ve been for me,” Sidon cooed sweetly, brushing Link’s bangs from where they had plastered to his forehead. “Such a lovely, lovely boy.” Link could only pant in response, the last turnings of his orgasm buzzing and burning through every inch of him. He shivered as Sidon moved his hand, reaching to swipe up with his thumb a bit of the cum that had spurted weakly from his cock. He raised his hand to Link’s mouth, pressed his thumb minutely against his lips until it sunk between them. Link didn’t much care for the taste of himself, but he found the warm, aroused breath Sidon took in as he watched him suck eagerly on his thumb made up for it. 

 

“Such a wonderful boy,” Sidon breathed, hand turning to ghost long, slender fingers over his cheek, then pressing a wide palm against the curve of his jaw. Link leaned into the caress, let his eyes flutter shut as he leaned back into the warm stability of Sidon’s arms, head still spinning and buzzing numbly. He sighed.


	11. oh a commission !! (2/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the 2nd part of tht commission !! it is from that mob au i mentioned a couple chapter back where dorephan is the head of a big ol crime syndicate n sidons his son n the heir n link is his somewhat unaware boyfriend n mipha is Dead :-) this is them holding a memorial.. thing? for her on the anniversary of her death :-)

It rained the night of the ceremony. A deafening crack of thunder had startled Link awake that night, and the vengeful battering of fat, angry raindrops against the window had kept him up for nearly half an hour. Sidon hadn’t stirred beside him, his large, hot form curled minutely away. When Link woke again, pale grey light spilling across the room, Sidon turned toward him now, close enough to see the worried contours of his slumbering face, the weather had tuckered itself almost entirely out, although now he had still been able to hear the soft pattering of rain upon the cool glass of the window. It mirrored, he now thought to himself, the steady tapping of it on the umbrella he held. 

 

Sidon’s hair was swept neatly up on his head, each hair tucked carefully into a braid and then twisted into a bun. He was wrapped in a thick, plush jacket, colored a rich, vibrant burgundy like spilled wine. His eyes were cast down, glued to the gravestone before them. His face was tight, the same tension he’d seen this morning visible in his hardened features, cold and icy and clouded. His brow was drawn heavy and low over his fiery eyes, and his jaw was visibly tensed, teeth probably grinding down on each other the way they tended to when he was upset. His mouth was twisted into a thin scowl, lips pressed coldly closed as if they were permanently sealed. His face was hard, sharp, intimidating, but Link knew it was only one of the collection of visages Sidon adopted only when he felt had to, when he was too messy, too vulnerable inside to let his true feelings show; when it was too dangerous for sincerity.

 

Link clung gently to Sidon, the hand holding the umbrella hooked through arm, the other clutching a bouquet of pretty, redolent snow-white lilies to his chest. Sidon had his own flowers in his free hand, plastic and tissue paper crinkling in his fist. Everyone had one, including the four other men Link didn’t recognize circled about the grave, as well Dorephan. His grief was plain on his creased, worn face, so viscerally so and so much unlike his son’s it was startling. His piercing, steely eyes were hollow now; they overflowed with broken sorrow, wetting the tired gray skin of his cheeks. His wide, powerful frame seemed drained, sunken, utterly powerless, his strong, deadly hands shivering as they clutched their bundle of already fading flowers for dear life.

 

Mipha’s grace was similarly wretched, moss obscuring the careful nuances of the engraved letters, filling in the center of the P, creeping over the arches of the “M.” Over and over again, Link’s eyes scanned the dates, so near,  _ too _ near each other, calculating and recalculating how old she was, how you she had been, how much of her life she had never seen. The old flowers upon the overgrown grass had long since lost their glory, trampled and beaten and ruined by the storm. They were, Sidon had once told him, usually thrown out and replaced every week by a paid groundskeeper. This week had been different, the groundskeeper suddenly and unavoidably unavailable, the old flowers allowed to stay and the site allowed to decay another week. It had knocked something out of Dorephan, had further killed something in him to see his precious daughter’s grave in such a state. Sidon’s brow had only tightened further, and he had spat bitterly under his breath something about replacing the man.

 

Dorephan was the first to speak. His chest rose and stretched as he inhaled, so deeply so it seemed he had scarcely been breathing before. 

 

“They took her from us too soon,” Dorephan said, voice grim and wavering minutely as he struggled to keep himself afloat. “Those bastard—they didn’t know what they were doing. What they were extinguishing. She was just—” Dorephan’s eyes fluttered shut. “She was just… a job to them. An opportunity to get to me. To hurt me. To break me.” Dorephan gazed at her grave, so utterly, completely shattered Link felt intrusive just to watch. He shifted, held onto Sidon’s arm a little tighter. Above him, Sidon squeezed his arm gingerly.

 

“You’re alright,” he murmured. His voice was level, but notably different, affected by something specific Link couldn’t quite place. “If we didn’t want you here, you’d know it.”

 

Link looked up at Sidon. His face remained the same, a cold, hard visage so unlike his father’s shattered one. It had grown darker it seemed, more opaque to whatever was going on within him. His eyes, trained carefully and unwaveringly on Mipha’s gravestone, were hollow.

 

“She didn’t deserve this.” Dorephan clutched his bouquet a bit tighter. His cheeks were glistening terribly in the oppressive grey light from where Link stood. “She didn’t deserve any of this.”

 

At that, Dorephan stepped forward, gingerly laying down his bouquet of cottony lilies, lingering for a moment to rest his hand atop the gravestone. His wrecked body sagged further in on itself, so viscerally, powerfully mournful it pushed a soft huff of air out of Link. A second later, Dorephan rose, some of the shadowed contours of his face already hardening and darkening. He took out his handkerchief as he stepped back, dabbing at the wetness upon his cheeks. The rest of the men to Dorephan’s right each stepped forward and put down their bouquets in turn until it was Sidon’s turn. The two of them stepped up together, arms tightly intertwined, mouths pressed silent in mute solemnity. Link placed his bouquet down first, minutely aside from the others. Sidon lingered, eyes trained on the faded, messied lettering of Mipha’s gravestone. Briefly, terribly, Sidon’s visage suddenly shattered, porcelain mask tumbling apart, a short static of blistering grief overtaking his features, like a crackle down a computer monitor. By the time Link had blinked, it was gone; the cold, impenetrable shell had been picked up and reassembled and spackled back on, although there were cracks in it now that Link couldn’t ignore. When Sidon set down his own wilted bundle of flowers onto the soaked grass, a soft sigh slipped from his lips. The two stepped back into place. Link’s arm was squeezed between Sidon’s own and his body. The stricken procession was silent, sorrow hanging horribly in the sky, pushing out all the air about them, all the air in the world, and replacing it with cold, bleak, shivering pain, stark enough to numb Link’s unfamiliar, unaware vibrance, to rip at his rich, vigourous, bloody self until he was just as rotten as the rest of them.

 

“May she be forevermore at rest.” The voice was unfamiliar, torn and graveled and heavy.

 

Everyone about Link raised heavy heads he hadn’t realized had been bowed, bound themselves up tighter in their cold downy coats and began picking their ways back to their vehicles. Link cut his eyes to Sidon, watched his aurate eyes watching the horizon. He remained still, something visibly whirring in his head. He remained a few minutes longer, cemented into his spot, his soul seemingly petrified into stone. The first movement Link saw was his eyes, stealing a glance at Mipha’s grave. A moment later, he sagged, bit back whatever bitter thing he’d seen, swallowed whatever agony had risen in his throat. He let their arms fall, reached down to grasp Link’s small hand in his a moment later. His grip was distracted.

 

“Let’s go.” His voice was tinged grey in Link’s ears.

 

Link was mute as he and Sidon walked back to the car. What was there to say? Of the millions and one things perched on the tip of Link’s tongue which was right? How did he approach this? How did he fix this? What comfort was there for him to provide for this, this pervasive grief, so deeply rooted, so all consuming it seemed to paint the whole of him blue?

 

As they reached the top of the hill the say ahead of them, across the wide blacktop street that wound through these doomed meadows, was Dorephan, some feet away, his shiny black car left alone on all sides, deserted by ones that had already left. He had his suit jacket off, draped across the back seat, and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. His back was to them, body slumped in an exhausted lean against his wide black van, head ducked, swathes and swathes of sooty, salt-and-pepper hair spilling from its tie, smoke of an unseen cigarette curling and twisting away into the sooty, heavy sky.

 

Sidon held open the door for Link, murmured directions to the driver before he slid in himself and shut the door. As soon as the car rumbled to life and started to move Sidon was reaching across the stiff leather seat for Link, pressing himself forward as well so that they might meet in the middle. Link let him slide his arms around him, curled up against his sorrowed form, one hand braced against his wide, strong chest. He tucked his head under Sidon’s chin, the way he knew he liked, let his ear listen to the soft, coarse rasp of his breath in his throat, the muffled, marching thud of his heart. Hands came to pet hair from his eyes, brushed rain damp bangs from his eyes, tucked them behind his ears. Sidon’s touch was ginger. When he took in a soft, stiff breath, it was sharp in Link’s ear.

 

“Thank you for coming with me,” he murmured. “To this. It’s… I know it must’ve felt awkward.”

 

Link shook his head. “I was ok. And it’s nothing. I didn’t want you to have to do something like this alone. I’m—” Link hesitated for a moment. “Whatever— whatever you need, whatever you want… right now, I’m here.”

 

Sidon combed his fingers lazily through Link’s hair, heart and lungs and mind all trembling, shivering to collapse, bound and barely held together by some invisible threat; some shimmering, twinkling stuff stamped with Link’s name all along the seaming. A soft breath curled from his grief blackened throat.

 

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Sidon’s hands were gentle on him, soft and warm and affectionate as one came to cup the edge of his jaw, fingers curled loosely against Link’s cheek. The kiss was slow, lovely and sweet and so ginger it made Link’s heart ache. He pressed towards Sidon, deepened the kiss until it was something hotter, hungrier, stirred more intensely the hot embers in his belly. Sidon accepted this, powerful hands pressing up to curl in soft tresses, his lovely mouth moving expertly against Link’s own. His tongue pushed hungrily at the crease of Link’s lips. A soft moan eked from Link’s throat as he parted them, let Sidon press his tongue forward to explore the soft, wet corners of his mouth. Link found himself breathless when Sidon pulled away, the very edges of himself beginning to turn fuzzy from so much attention. Sidon pressed eager, wanting kisses down Links cheek, down to the soft curve of his neck. A hot tremble ran through Link at the lapping of his tongue at the sensitive skin, the ginger, dizzying tug as he sucked and nipped wine-stain bruises into the alabaster skin.

 

It was so much that Link almost missed the nigh imperceptible flinch that jolted through Sidon, dropping his hands from his hair and stilling his jaw. Link felt the minute tug on his hair disappear, the sudden loss of sensation at his neck, replaced by the press of his nose against the skin instead. Link sputtered out a huff of air, struggled to pull himself around enough to speak.

 

“Si—” His voice was still dreamy, inappropriately breathless and winding. He took in a soft breath, wrestling back the hot hunger in his belly. Something was wrong. He knew it. “Sidon.”

 

Sidon didn’t move, face still buried in the crook of his neck. He shifted, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. This close, Link could hear the low, shallow rasps of his breath, erratic and forced and muddied suffocated by something else. When he gingerly moved to wrap his arms around Link’s slight shoulders he took in a fragile breath, so broken, so finely shattered it tore through Link’s heart like a bullet. 

 

“You’re ok.” Link’s voice was soft, wrapped in cotton and linen, ginger as a strand of silk, warm and soothing and smooth. Sidon’s chest heaved, loud and sharp and sorrowful, against Link. Link pressed a hand flat against Sidon’s wide, trembling back.

 

“It’s ok. I’ve got you.” He clawed his hand, let the backs of his nails drag gently up and down Sidon’s spine. “You’re ok. You’re ok.” He turned his face, let his nose press minutely against Sidon’s temple. Softer, gentler, he breathed, “You can cry.”

 

Sidon did. His breath sputtered in his throat, tripped over the tight, cracked sob that was pushed from him, muffled immediately by Link’s neck. He collapsed, whatever delicate precarious thing that was holding him up, piecing him together snapping and slumping his weight into Link’s arms, crushing under its gravity the very fire blazing within him. Another cry pealed from him, sharp and messy and pained, as though the sound had been forced from him. He clung desperately to Link’s frame, clutched and grappled for something solid, something he might grasp with the last bit of his strength so that when he fell he would not do so so terribly hard. His hands curled into quivering fists in the fabric of Link’s shirt, his breath hastening and his body wracked as everything, his grief, his pain, his confusion, all came tumbling from him at once, loud and hot and splintering and messy, rushing and twisting and melting together until he could not sob loud enough, could not weep tears enough to keep pace with the agony pulsing within him, radiating through every nerve, leaching into every atom of him. There was so much of it all, too much it seemed, for him to bear without completely ceasing to exist. His mind panicked, so pained, so excruciated, it could compel him only to hang onto Link for dear life, as if he might be swept away otherwise.

 

Link was firm beneath him, his arms welcoming, his embrace steady. He braced a hand upon the back of Sidon’s neck, turned to press soft lips to the side of his head, swallowing the ache in his own chest at the trembling of Sidon’s form, the sheer sorrow in his sobs. This Sidon was a stranger to him. He had never before cried in front of him. He had been on the verge, he had swept away tears fallen just moments before, but Link had never known a Sidon like this: one so wholly broken, so overwhelmed with suffocating heartache it seemed he could scarcely breathe. It was difficult. It was upsetting. But Link could not forget the innumerable times Sidon had done just this for him, had sat and held him as he shook, shushed him when he sobbed, petted away bitter, burning tears from flushed cheeks. And even if Sidon had not, to watch him like this and to do nothing would have, to him, been unthinkably cruel. He was not wont to tolerate cruelty. 

 

Link closed his eyes, moved to hug Sidon tighter, to bring his broken form closer to himself, to let him press into his embrace. He shifted his hand to brace the back of Sidon’s head, fingers clawing where they lay to catch up in them some of his hair and comb it back, tucked behind his ear. 

 

“It’s ok,” Link murmured again, wishing there were someway he could take this grief from him, pulling it from his body and destroy it, or absorb some of it into himself so he didn’t have to suffer alone. “You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”

 

“Sh-She’s— She—” Sidon’s voice was made of glass, splintered and quivering, blasted shards fine as dust burying themselves deep in the ruddy muscle of Link’s heart. “She—” 

 

“I know. I know. It’s ok.” These words felt like lies on his tongue, blatant, bruised poisoned lies. He did not know this pain. He could not know. He would never know. His fortune has been too blessed, life too kind in the reading of his cards. But he would try; try to find some way to take a bit of his burden so it did not flatten him, for him; for his Sidon.

 

“I couldn’t—”

 

Link shushed him, tightened his arms around him. “Don’t. You were 10. You were only 10. You couldn’t have done anything more.” 

 

Sidon sagged against him, slumped more of his sick weight into his embrace. Link held him steady, held him aloft, as high as he could bear; he did not let him collapse into himself. He would not let him. Sidon was broken—deeply, pervasively, achingly so—but he would not let him become irreparable. He would not let him become destroyed.

 

Sidon’s tears were hot, terrible things that tore to shred Link’s very soul, but they did not last long. They were soon exhausted, Sidon now only clinging to Link and panting, burning, splotchy face buried into the crook of his neck. Link was ginger as he coaxed it up to face him, hands petting back his hair soft and warm, voice pouring gentle reassurance over him smooth and sweet. Sidon’s eyes, shimmering vibrance dulled by pain, blazing irises muted by the redness about them, refused to meet Link’s own, cast away by shame.

 

“Sidon.”

 

He closed his eyes. The hollow weariness in his frame was familiar now, mirrored his father’s as he’d stood over the grave of his daughter. He shifted minutely away from Link.

 

“I’m s—”

 

“Don’t.” Link’s hand found Sidon’s on the bed, laid gingerly atop it, fingers curling to grip his. “Don’t apologize for missing her. Don’t apologize for grieving.”

 

Sidon’s hand under Link’s tightened. His gaze softened, brow coming together again, cracked visage contorting as though he might cry again. The emotion rolling from him like a sick heat was raw, blistering, aching stuff that made Link’s stomach turn, made him wish he could turn it all off for him, but it was infinitely better than earlier, when he had been so numb it had scarcely seemed he was still in there. Sidon’s gaze shifted, came up to meet Link’s eyes for a few moments.

 

“...Thank you.”


	12. oh a commission !! (3/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the commissioner wanted a lotta stuff from me !! heres some more porn but this time links(finally) trans !!! ive been wanting to write this for my entire life dont even talk to me

Sidon’s hand roamed down Link’s side, ghosting over hot, buzzing skin. Link started, shifting and squirming as his large hands spread over his belly, pressing flat against the soft mound of fat just above his groin. Sidon kissed him again, slow and sweet and deep, pressing his tongue easily into Link’s mouth, drawing a soft, low moan from him. Sidon rolled his hips down against Link, fingers petting teasingly at sensitive, blushing skin. His hand explored further, reaching gingerly into Link’s pants, down enough to slowly cup his wet, quivering warmth. Link’s legs twitched to press together, hands curling in Sidon’s fiery hair as he ground his palm into Link, the heel just barely missing his throbbing clit. It had come close though, close enough to pull a short groan from Link, to make him roll his hips minutely up into Sidon’s hand in search of more. Sidon pulled back from the kiss, just enough to press his lips softly to Link’s cheek, and then the curve of his jawline, and then the soft stretch of skin where his neck began to curve into his shoulder. Sidon lingered, lips pursing slowly and deliciously against Link’s skin, sending coursing through him shivers enough to let his eyes flutter shut. All the while, Sidon’s hand roamed about his crotch, kneading at the soft flesh and the coarse, wiry hair growing there, steadily sliding lower and lower to press his fingers gently against Link’s wet lips, sinking easily between them, circling once around his hard, hot clit. Link started beneath him, head craning back to gasp out to the heavens, brow coming together in dizzy pleasure as Sidon continued toying with him, rubbing at his clit with the pad of his thumb while he let his index and middle fingers slip further, down enough to sink into him, hooking upwards a bit as he slowly pressed into him. Link whimpered, arms wrapped like a vice around Sidon’s neck. He panted hotly into Sidon’s ear as he pressed slowly in and out of him, sensation melding and mixing with the steady massaging of his clit and his powerful mouth sucking dark bruises into his neck to bathe him in a sticky, bleary, stupefying mess of pleasure.

  


“Mmm,” Sidon purred, voice low and soft and adoring. “How wet you are already, just from this.” He pressed his hand forward, pushing his fingers deeper into Link, bringing his hot palm up to grind against his clit. Link arched against him, a stammering gasp escaping him, chest flushing hot and red. His hips twitched against Sidon’s hand, bucking messily forward, eager for more friction. Sidon smiled, a soft chuckle rumbling low in his chest. He withdrew his hand, slid it under Link’s shirt to gently tug it up over his head, baring his pale, heaving chest to the warm air. He gingerly placed his hand over one of Link’s breasts, slid it down to cup the curved form in his hand, rolled his thumb over the hard pink nipple as he kneaded at the soft flesh. Link let his eyes fall shut as Sidon kissed his way down his neck, down to the gentle, sloping curve of his ribcage, let his lips linger at the bony valley between his breasts. When he took one of his nipples into his warm, wet mouth he gasped, hands curling into tight fists in his hair. He shook beneath him, high, breathy whimpers spilling from him as he sucked gently, rolled his tongue about the hard, sensitive nub, let his teeth sink gingerly into the flesh around it. His hips jerked tightly against Sidon, desperate for warmth, friction against his hot, strong body. Sidon placated him a bit, rolled his hips down to grind against Link, pulling a high moan from his trembling lips. 

  


Sidon came back up, pressed a wet, hungry kiss to Link bruised mouth, swallowing every delicious sound he made as he plundered every corner of his mouth. When he pulled away Link was breathless, cheeks flushed and brow drawn. Sidon smiled again, ducked down to press long, lingering kisses to his neck, hands finding and clutching the soft flesh about his hips. He gently teased down his jeans, stopping for a moment to let Link kick them from around his ankles. His hand returned to Link’s crotch, rubbed thoughtfully at the warm wet patch between his thighs.

  


“What you would like me to do to you, I wonder,” Sidon mused, watching the way Link reeled beneath him, hips twitching to grind into his touch. “What would you like, hmm? My hands? My mouth? My cock? Tell me.”

  


Link’s cheeks flushed, pink staining the tips of his ears. “I don’t--” Link’s voice shook as he spoke, hitching high and shimmeringly as Sidon’s hand found its way into his underwear again, teasing slow and awful against his clit. He bit his lip, his own hands coming down to grip quivering fingernails into the skin of his shoulders. “I d-don’t care.”

  


Sidon seemed to consider this for a moment, fingers lazily pressing to push inside of Link for a moment before he pulled them away, rubbing once at his clit as he removed his hand.

  


“Alright. I suppose we’ll have to see which you like the most,” he said simply. Gingerly, he hooked a finger on the elastic band on either side of Link’s hips, and pulled them down the length of his smooth, pale thighs, slipped one foot through one of the holes so he could gingerly knock further apart his legs. Link let his hands fall from his shoulders, coming to rest loosely curled on his belly as Sidon moved further down his body, leaving in his wake a trail of wet, buzzing kisses, until he reached the messy tangle of hair at his crotch. An arm came to curl around Link’s hips, pulling him closer, further down the bed, enough so for him to shiver at the first accidental brush of Sidon’s mouth against him. His eyes fluttered tightly shut as Sidon ghosted hot hands along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, straying achingly close to where he was steadily growing wetter and wetter. The first brush of lips at the crease where his thigh met his groin pulled a tremble through him, sent a soft moan tumbling from his parted lips before he could think to bite it back.

  


“Such a lovely boy,” Sidon breathed, words tickling at tingling skin. The next kiss there was firmer, a solid, sweet thing that unwound some of the tension winding in the depth of his belly. His mouth strayed closer, a kiss pressed to the soft, warm curve of one of his lips, and then to the soaked, blood-hot crease itself. His tongue darted out, lapped at the gushing slit, pressed between the lips nearly imperceptibly, just enough to push a soft, slow sigh from Link. A moment later, he gasped, Sidon having parted his lips, let his tongue flick and press against his clit. His hips twitched weakly, rolling back to press more of his clit against Sidon’s warm mouth. His arm around his hips kept him in place as he lapped at his wetness, pursed his lips carefully around his clit and sucked gently. A hot, buzzing shiver ran up Link’s spine, set every inch of his skin ablaze. He moaned, high and loud and pretty, eyes squeezing shut and chest heaving. His hand came down to fist tightly in Sidon’s hair, bearing down on the back of his head to press his mouth harder against him in hungry desperation. A moment later, he let up, a half second of clarity coming over him. He hesitated for a moment, hand twitching to pull away, when Sidon pushed his tongue against his soaking hole, pushed delicately against his hot entrance until it sunk easily inside. Link shook, fist curling tighter, thighs twitching together as Sidon pressed in and out of him, fucking into him with his tongue.

  


“Fuck!” Link’s voice was breathless and tight, heady pleasure stealing the air from his very lungs. His hips rolled and bucked beneath him, intoxicated by the sensation yet driven mad by how “not enough” it was. His teeth found and worried at his bottom lip when Sidon pulled his tongue out, pressed gentle, reassuring kisses to the sticky folds of his lips. 

  


Link started a bit when he felt his hand come to knead at his wetness again, heel of his palm grinding once against his blood-red clit, slow and excruciating enough to pull a soft, quivering moan from his lips. Sidon came back up to toy with his clit, latched the wet warmth of his mouth around it, rolled his tongue expertly about the hard, hot nub. Link cried out, hips jerking and grinding against his face, breath coming heavy and quick from his slack jawed mouth. The sticky, tangled ball of heat in his belly stirred, quickened the heaving of his chest and the rolling of his hips, drew his eyebrows together on his forehead. It grew hotter still when Sidon let two of his fingers find his hole and press into it, hooking minutely upward as they fucked mercilessly into him. Link panted hotly, motion of his hips becoming erratic as he came closer and closer to orgasm. Sidon needed only work at him for a few moments more, until the tension in his belly broke and he came, back arching off the bed and body stiffening as hot, dazzling electricity tore through him, made every inch of him burn and hum and blaze, dizzyingly bright. His thighs pressed together as his orgasm pulsed through him, probably squeezing Sidon’s head in the process, although he was much too preoccupied to care. His voice was high and shimmering, the wanton cry ripped from his throat wavering and fractured. 

  


As he came slowly winding back down, he tuned back in to the slow thrust of Sidon’s fingers into him still, pressing deeper than before, enough to brush some buzzing, overwhelmed part of him, rolling a tight shiver through him. Link shifted, gently pushed Sidon’s hand away, still so sensitive it hurt. Sidon obeyed. He withdrew his hand, although not before one final teasing brush against his buzzing clit, and came back up to press a kiss to the bruised curve of Link’s neck.

  


“Did that suffice?” Sidon murmured against his skin, hand petting lazily at his pinkened belly. Link nodded, eyes shut and lip caught between his teeth, slid his arms around Sidon’s neck as the last lingering pulses of his orgasm humming through him, bathing every corner of him in dull, happy warmth. All the while Sidon continued working at him, pursing his lips gingerly against his neck, taking a bit of the already bruised skin and sucking tenderly, just enough to make Link shift beneath him. “That wasn’t all you wanted, if I recall.” Sidon’s voice was low and husky in his ear, made the tips of them twitch and redden. “You wanted my cock, too, isn’t that right?” Link’s breath hitched in his throat as Sidon let his teeth nip carefully at his neck. He squirmed, tight heat already collecting low in his belly, already soaked again between his legs. He turned to press his face into the comforter, nodded weakly as he heard Sidon slip out of his own pants. His hand came back to splay flat against his belly, traveled slowly lower until it rested against the soft bit of fat above Link’s groin, toyed lazily with the wiry hair growing there. Link started, dug hard fingers into Sidon’s shoulders at the first press of the hot tip of Sidon’s cock against him, rubbing easily between his lips.

  


“Are you wet for me already? So soon after you’ve come?”

  


Link squeezed his eyes shut, let a soft, needy breath huff from his open mouth. The sound stuttered into a high moan when Sidon pressed against his entrance, sinking easily inside. Link gasped, shook and reeled beneath him, the delicious stretch, the dizzying, heavy fullness driving him mad, his lingering sensitivity only making it all that much more intense. 

  


Sidon hummed low against his throat, sighing softly to himself as he rocked into Link, slow and deliberate and careful. “What a good boy you are,” he cooed, drinking in the way Link trembled against him, the whimpers and whines that tumbled easily from his precious lips. 

  


Link clung desperately to Sidon, thighs shaking as he thrust into him, so slow and excruciating it drove him mad. At this pace he could feel every wonderful inch of him, made to focus on every buzzing second of contact, the way he speared him open, the way he filled him up so well, the way it was so much, yet somehow still so little it made him want to scream.

  


Sidon huffed out a breath against his neck, let his teeth just barely ghost over Link’s skin. As he did, he hastened his thrusting, fucked into him harder and faster, enough so to push a quivering whimper from Link’s throat. He craned his head back, nails clawing at Sidon’s back, and cried out to the ceiling, loud and high and twinkling as the head of Sidon’s cock bullied over and over against his sweet spot, stirring and exciting the hot knot of tension growing in his belly. The friction of Sidon moving against him on his sensitive clit made him dizzy, made his eyes flutter shut and his brow come together, too good for words, too good for anything but the shivering, wanton whimper that curled from him. He felt something heavy on his tongue and he automatically closed his lips around it. It was Sidon’s thumb, still wet with his own juices. He didn’t much care for the salty taste of himself, but nonetheless he sucked eagerly, let Sidon press his jaw open, pepper open-mouthed kisses against his cheek.

  


“Let me hear you,” he growled, speech interrupted by hot, heavy huffs of pleasure. “I want to hear every single pretty sound you make when you come.”

  


Link could only pant in response. It, his wonderful weight bearing down on him, the dominance in his words, the pleasure in his voice, was all too much for him, went straight to his belly and overwhelmed him, another orgasm tearing through him, hotter and deeper and heavier than before. Link cried out, the tight helpless noise bursting and tumbling from his mouth, too small to contain it all, the sheer electrifying pleasure coursing through him. His breath came in high, whorish gasps, his narrow chest heaving massively against Sidon. His hips rolled and jerked erratically, desperate for more, more friction, more fullness, more of Sidon. Shortly enough, Sidon stilled as well, clutched Link tightly in his arms as he came, face buried in Link’s bruised neck as a low, quivering groan curled from his wonderful mouth. Link let his eyes fall shut, thighs trembling minutely at the friction between their bodies as Sidon rocked gently against him, riding out his orgasm. When Sidon pulled out of him, Link shivered tightly, aching dully for fullness again.

  


Slowly, the two of them came down together, tangled together in a mess of hot, sweaty limbs and buzzing, hazy minds. Sidon gingerly slipped his arms around Link, hugged him close to his sticky chest. He swept back the bangs plastered to his forehead so he could press a soft, sweet kiss to his flushed skin.

  


“What a good boy you’ve been,” he murmured, voice low and smooth like honey. “Such a wonderful boy you always are for me.”

  


Link pressed into Sidon’s embrace, heart warmed and lifted by his praise. He slid an arm around his neck, tugged him closer so he could rest his mouth against the soft skin where his shoulder rose into his neck. His body was still ablaze, the very edges of him still fuzzy and tingling with soft, cottony pleasure, but the touches and kisses they shared were chaste; the press of their bare bodies together, the way their curves and edges fit so well into the other’s tinged only with love.


	13. oh a commission !! (4/4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the last part !! its from an au where sidon is links sugar daddy except theyre married so idk if its still the same but sidon loves link so fucking much n he likes to show it by constantly buying link stuff coz hes a millionaire :-) there is a little bit of nsfw stuff in here but its not supposed to like Be a porn u kno

Sidon’s lips pursed against the soft skin of Link’s cheek, ghosted over it just light enough to send a shiver down his spine, curl a smile across Link’s pink lips.

 

“My darling boy,” Sidon mused, arm coming to encircle Link’s waist, pulling him flush against his side. “I’ve missed you so terribly. So, so terribly.” His mouth wandered, pressed warm, buzzing kisses down to the soft edge of his jaw, down the elegant slope of his neck, to the gentle upward curve of his shoulder, where his gossamer robe had slid down some to expose the alabaster skin. Link sighed softly, eyes fluttering shut and head rolling back as Sidon kissed and lapped at the sensitive skin there, sending warm, blossoming shivers throughout him, made his arms around Sidon’s neck squeeze tighter, hands curling into tighter fists. Sidon let his teeth nip at a bit of his skin, shock enough to arch Link’s body against Sidon’s, pull a soft winding moan from his lips.

 

“It’s only been 8 hours,” Link murmured, voice breathless and lilting, mind already becoming hazy around the edges.

 

“About 8 hours too long, when I can hardly stand to spend a minute away from you,” Sidon breathed, arms winding tighter around him. Link bit back the urge to laugh out loud at the sheer pompous cheesiness of his husband. He was always like this, always proclaimed his love and adoration of Link in such gaudy, infatuated language, but it never failed to make him blush and giggle when he did. Link himself was so naturally quiet and reserved that being around Sidon’s boisterousness remained thrilling, even after the years they had been together. Although if he was honest with himself, he quite enjoyed the way Sidon’s face always lit up when he came home to him, the way his whole demeanor would change in an instant as soon as he had him in his arms, swept him off his feet and kissed him the noisy, thrilling way he always did. He didn’t like to consider himself much of an attention seeker, but he couldn’t deny how refreshing it was to see Sidon still so absolutely enchanted by him after so long together.

 

Sidon worked his way back up to Link’s cheek, lingering to huff a ticklish breath against his ear before he brought a hand up to cup Link’s jaw. Link opened his eyes to gaze up at Sidon, bright azure eyes bleeding and shimmering with love. Sidon couldn’t help but smile, completely, utterly enraptured by him. His touch was gentle as he placed a finger beneath Link’s chin, lifting it to bring his mouth to his, kissing him slow and smooth and sweet, so full of unadulterated love he thought it must have been wafting off him like the heat of a fever. Link seemed to melt into him, hands coming to curl loosely in Sidon’s fiery tresses, body pressed flush against his. When he pulled away, just enough to take in a hushed breath, Link was dazed, cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink, precious mouth already ducking forward for more. Sidon smiled, brought his hand up to rest his thumb against the plump curve of Link’s bottom lip.

 

“My wonderful boy,” Sidon murmured, half to himself. Sidon pressed one last kiss to his cheek, and then shifted, sat up and back against the headboard. He pulled Link to straddle his lap, chests flush together, Sidon’s hands sliding lazily over the hot skin bared by the skimpy lingerie Link wore under his robe. Link rested his head in the crook of Sidon’s neck, arms clasped round his shoulders, humming contently as he touched him, scratched away the needling ache for his large steady hands on him he’d been fending off all day.

 

“Tell me about your day,” Sidon said, voice hushed to whisper in his ear. His hands smoothed up Link’s sides, then back down to the soft outward curve of his hips.

 

Link sighed against Sidon’s neck, melting like wax under the buzzing warmth of his touch. “Nothing, really. It was a bit too cold for the horses, but I made do. I wasn’t terribly bored for too long.”

 

Sidon chuckled quietly, reaching a hand down to gently knead at one of Link’s cheeks, sending a small start through the man and minutely canting his hips back into his grasp. “What you sent me at lunch certainly seems to confirm that.”

 

Link grinned smugly, lips pursing to press a kiss to Sidon’s neck. He let his eyes fall shut, hand coming up to trace lazy circles in Sidon’s shirt. “I found something pretty today, while I was looking at things online.”

 

Sidon’s hands returned to Link’s hips, gently gripped them to turn Link in his lap, back to Sidon’s chest. Sidon pressed a few slow kisses to the crook of Link’s neck, teasing a soft, winding sigh from him. All the while his hands resumed their roaming down Link’s front, smoothed down the soft plane of his belly until they reached the elastic of his panties.

 

“Is that so?” Sidon murmured, lips brushing his skin as he spoke, pulling a tight shiver down his spine. “What was it?”

 

“Another set of lingerie. It’s I’ve never seen anywhere else before. I think you’d—“ Link’s voice hitched gently as Sidon’s hand dove into the front of his panties, fingers reaching immediately to press apart his lips, rubbing lazily at his clit. His breath stuttered briefly in his throat at the sudden ginger wave of pleasure, hips rolling weakly into Sidon’s touch. “Ah… I thought of you when I saw it. I think you’d really like it.”

 

“Mmm?” Sidon pursed his lips gently against Link’s neck. His free hand came to rest atop his pale thigh, sliding gently in between to coax apart his legs. Link obeyed easily, tossing apart his knees. “Describe it for me.”

 

“It’s lace,” Link breathed. “In all the places you like. And it’s one of those strappy ones, like the red one I have, especially at the hips and the chest, and it comes with a garterbelt that I think would look so good with those stockings you just got me.” Link’s eyes fluttered shut, hand coming to grip Sidon’s arm as he rubbed lazy circles against his quickly hardening clit. He huffed out a soft, heady breath. “It comes in a bunch of colors, but the one I want’s that… shade of green you said a little bit ago would look so nice against my skin.” He peeled open his eyes to gaze up at Sidon, breath already coming heavier in his throat. “I think you’d love me in it. I’d look so adorable while you’re fucking me.”

 

Sidon’s mouth curled into a slow grin. “Well. It does sound rather tempting. I  _ do _ seem to recall having just bought you something not so long ago, but I don’t suppose I’ll be able to resist my curiosity.”

 

“It wouldn’t just be a gift for me,” Link said, head lolled back onto Sidon’s shoulder, grip on his arm loosening as dizzy warmth spread throughout him, curling into every inch and corner of him. “Ah… Even if it were, it’d still be you who got to do the unwrapping.”

 

Sidon chuckled, a low, playful sound that rumbled against Link’s neck. “Hmm. You do make a good point. You’ve gone and gotten me intrigued now. How much is it?”

 

“Three hundred,” Link gasped, hips rolling and twitching as Sidon hastened his actions, working quickly to stir the knot of heat already growing in his belly. “It’s n— It’s not as much as the last one.”

 

“Consider it yours.” Sidon pressed a kiss to Link’s neck, lingering for a moment to drink in his hushed gasps and whines. “Money’s no object. Not for my pearl.”

 

Link let out a soft, contented breath, satisfaction and thrill of some new pretty thing to put on, to dress up in for Sidon mixing with the pleasure of Sidon touching him to create some heady, syrupy haze in his mind, good enough to relax Link further into Sidon’s embrace, let him spill filthy, wanton cries and moans to the heavens, let him shiver and writhe and reel in his arms until he came, a short and electrifying and deep thing that drew his eyebrows tight together on his forehead, pinkened chest heaving hard against Sidon’s. This life, spending days doing nothing at all, swathed in the finest clothes, dripping with the finest jewels, pleasured with the finest toys, was still so foreign to him; this seemingly inexhaustible wealth of Sidon’s, so easily parted with to fulfill Link’s every need and whim, was still so foreign to him, so far removed from the way he had existed for the first decades of his life. But even he could not deny that it was a good life, nor how lucky he was to have stumbled into it. 

 

As Link came winding back down to Earth, Sidon was rubbing slow, lazy circles into the soft skin just above his groin, toying with the first brush of hair growing there. He pressed a kiss to Link’s temple when he felt him shift in his arms. 

 

“Always so precious for me… I‘ll order it tonight,” he murmured, hand ghosting down Link’s arm to take his hand in his. “You tell me as soon as it arrives. I bet you’ll look absolutely splendid.”

 

Link craned his head back, nosing gently at Sidon’s neck before pressing a kiss there. Sidon let him turn around, cupped either side of his face as Link pressed forward to kiss him, firm and sweet and long. 

 

“Thank you,” Link purred once they broke apart, still so close their lips nearly brushed as he spoke.

 

Sidon smiled. “Anything for my pearl.”


	14. Sprout and the Bean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a sidlink secret santa gift 4 melancholyhomo on tumblr !!! no context tho is jus meaningless fluff UoU

When Link awoke, there was a chill in the air, leaching into his skin despite the old home’s admittedly lethargic heating and the multitude of blankets he was buried under and swaddled within. Link drew his limbs in closer to himself, huffed out a chattering breath and pressed closer to the warm form still slumbering beside him. Its face was hidden, obscured by the masses of plush blankets and bedding between and about them, but his wild, fiery hair spilled across his pillow, seeming to flow from a spot in the blankets like a river. Link brought his stiff fingers to his mouth, exhaled a soft, slow breath over them to limber them back up, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

 

Link sat up after a few moments, gathering his resolve to sit up, unprotected by the covers,  in the frosty air of their bedroom. His hands came to clasp over his naked arms when he did, goosebumps immediately springing up on his bare skin. Crisp, pale morning light streamed into the room, painted everything in a stark, sharp edged clarity. When Link looked out the window, he was startled to see only white, so bright in combination with the sun it almost hurt his eyes. Link rose from the bed, pushed back the blankets and unfolded his stiff legs, toes curling instinctively at the chill of the wood floors. He padded over to the window, and gently pushed apart the slats. When he saw the source of his confusion, he couldn’t hold back his audible gasp.

 

It had snowed overnight. And rather heavily so, evidently. Everything had been covered in a thick white blanket, smooth and perfect. Every sharp edge had been softened, wrapped in cold cotton, every object as though it had been replaced by a pure white inflated caricature of itself, snow piled on and clinging to even the thinnest of branches. Everything seemed to glitter in the crisp sunlight, twinkling and glimmering at every turn of Link’s head with chilled, breathtaking beauty. Link’s breath fogged the glass before him.

 

Something stirred excitedly within Link. He’d seen plenty of snow in his days, but he’d spent a good portion of his childhood in Hateno, further south than where the two now lived, too far, most years, for much more than a few thin inches of snow that always sat on the roads for too long until it turned into ugly grey slush and ice that soaked your shoes if you stood in it too long. He didn’t necessarily feel he had been robbed of anything as a child, and he knew he ought to have grown out of such childlike wonder at his age, but he simply couldn’t deny the excitement he still felt when it snowed so heavily. He perked up further, suddenly remembered Sidon still asleep on the bed. It took everything in him to keep himself from dashing to the bed and leaping onto it, and when he’d settled back into their warm nest of blankets, his excitement manifested in a subtle, contented wiggling of his hips.

 

The commotion of him getting back into bed was enough to rouse Sidon, his broad form stirring and swelling as he came into wakefulness. The mass of crimson hair shifted and tumbled away as its owner moved, and from the swath of blankets Link saw peel open a narrow golden eye, fixed on his face. Link bent forward, lying back down so he was parallel to Sidon. The other man stretched stiffly, eyes squeezed shut, pushing away the blankets about his face. His eyes met Link’s when he opened them again, groggy gaze so contented to see him, so full already of bubbling affection.

 

“Hi,” Sidon breathed, voice rough and low from sleep.

 

“Hi.” Link couldn’t help the smile that curled across his lips.

 

Sidon reached for him, arms winding easily around him and pulling him to his body. Link let him, pressed happily into his embrace, head tucked safely beneath his chin, hands coming to encircle his wide chest. Heat radiating from him, caught and held and reflected back by the blankets surrounding them chased away any vestiges of cold in him, reddened his cheeks and lifted his fluttering heart. Link lifted his hands to find Sidon’s face, gently flattened them against his cheeks. He easily guided his face down, pressed forward himself to kiss him sweetly. Sidon grinned against his mouth, arms tightening around him, bringing him closer into him, closer into his warmth. When they broke apart, Sidon pursed his lips against the tip of Link’s nose, gentle and slow, mouth curling into another smile at the soft lilting giggle it teased from Link’s throat.

 

“It snowed last night,” Link whispered, angling his face forward and down to gingerly press their foreheads together.

 

“Did it? How much?” Sidon shifted to sit up, one hand lingering on Link as he did.

 

“A good couple inches, at least. Enough that the roads’ll still be a mess, I'm sure.” When Link sat up, Sidon’s gaze was already trained on the window. Link placed a hand over one of Sidon’s own, curled his fingers to grip it gently. Sidon let him lift it, bring the knuckles to his lips and kiss them softly. Sidon hummed to himself, eyes reflecting the blistering white of the window.

 

“So it has,” he murmured. He cut his eyes to Link. “I’m sure you’re not telling me just to tell me,” he added teasingly.

 

Link pressed Sidon’s hand to his mouth, gazed up at him with wide, round eyes. “They wouldn’t miss you at the office. Not on a day like this.”

 

Sidon took control of his hand, laid his palm flat against Link’s cheek. “You know I can’t just stay home whenever I want,” he said, thumb smoothing over the soft pink skin. Link sagged visibly, mouth twisting into a dejected pout. He raised his hand to lay it over Sidon’s. He softened his gaze further, lightened his touch, pleading wordlessly with him. Sidon let him continue for a few moments more, until his eyebrows had come together on his forehead and his bottom lip had just begun to push out, and then grinned. “But I suppose I  _do_ have a few sick days I can use. And you’re right, there won’t be hardly anyone there anyhow, not in this weather.” Sidon smiled wider, a soft, musical chuckle curling from his throat at how quickly Link’s face lit up. He leaned forward to press a kiss to his precious lips. “Let me get showered and let’s have some breakfast, and then we can go out.”

 

* * *

 

 

Link stood at the window again, the sound of the shower fading into a hazy din as he gazed at the glimmering snow covered yard. He thought he may never grow tired of the amount of detail snow seemed to preserve in the scenes it blanketed, even the eyes of the ceramic frog planter in the next door neighbor’s yard visible as rounded mounds. He loved the look of this freshly fallen stuff, everything about it so clean and crisp and tidy. It almost seemed to add to the joy of stepping into it, probably some deep-rooted satisfaction with messing up something so neat. Link was pulled from his thoughts by the creak of the bathroom door, the sudden, subtle mugginess on his skin from the shower’s steam. Sidon’s hands were hot on his waist as he came to stand behind him. He found his hair was still swept up in a towel when he craned his head back to look at his face.

 

“Thank you,” Link murmured, hand resting on Sidon’s wide forearm. “For staying and everything.”

 

“It’s quite alright. I think it’s cute how much you enjoy it. And I haven’t gotten to truly enjoy the snow myself in a few years. It’ll be refreshing.” Sidon wrapped his arms around Link, squeezed him tight enough to pull a giggle from him. “And I’d  _much_ rather spend the whole day with my husband than be inside that stuffy old office.” He ducked his head down to press his lips to Link’s neck. “Let’s get some breakfast in you.”

 

In the kitchen, Link yet found his attention divided between the omelette he was making them and the vast white expanse visible out the back door. He thought of the snap of the cold around him, the blush it would call up on his pale cheeks, the refreshing way it would fill his lungs as soon as he stepped outside. The way it would crunch beneath their feet, the way it would shine.

 

“Link?”

 

Sidon was beside him, rummaging for something for them to drink in the tea cupboard. He smiled at the way Link blinked as he snapped back into reality, looked down and remembered with a start the omelette on the stove. Sidon said nothing as he selected a box of black tea, pausing to press a kiss to the top of Link’s head. He poured out two mugs of hot water, set each to steeping as Link finished the omelette. When it was finished, Link split it in two, slid each half onto a plate and handed one to Sidon, who exchanged it for the milk and sugar he knew Link liked in his tea. Link hoisted himself up onto the counter, set his mug beside him and his plate on his lap. Sidon came to lean on the counter beside him. The two ate their informal breakfast in contented silence, tearing off bits of egg with tea-warmed fingers.

 

Link all but leapt to his feet when he had finished, swept his dishes hastily into the sink. By the time Sidon had finished his own food, he was already at the coat closet, sifting through their basket of gloves. He’d already dressed in a few thick layers, a couple of sweaters that, when he pulled on his puffy down coat, made him look like something of a forest green marshmallow, and a pair of thermal leggings under his plush, fleece lined snow pants. He swept his hair up to tuck it into his fur lined hat, wound a scarf around his neck and then sat on the first step of the stairs to tug on his snow boots. When he looked up Sidon was buttoning up his own coat. He padded over to the back door as he waited for him to dress, excitement manifesting in the impatient drum of his fingers on the chilled glass. He leaned his forehead against it, huffing out a slow breath that fogged the glass. He pulled off one of his thick gloves, traced a small heart in the middle.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Sidon was behind him, bundled up securely in his own gear. The unusual rotund shape of his body brought a smile to Link’s lips behind his scarf. He nodded, slipping his glove back on and reaching to open the door.

 

The air seemed tighter in the snow, harder and sharper, narrowing his eyes immediately and reddening his cheeks. Link buried his chin and mouth deeper into his scarf, shivering stiffly as he stepped into the fresh powder, cold leaching back to nip weakly at the bottoms of his ears. He stepped gingerly out onto the snow blanketed porch, breath bated and awed at the splendor of it all. A gentle breeze blew, skated minuscule, glittery bits of snow and ice across the ground. Before them stretched the vast white expanse of the yard, perfectly untouched by a single blemish or footprint. It caught the light much better without the glass of the window, seemed to shimmer as though it had been coated in glitter. Link turned back to look at Sidon, eyes wide and sparkling.

 

Sidon couldn’t keep his growing smile off his face. He stepped beside Link, heat rolling off him like a furnace, drawing Link to lean minutely towards him. “What would you like to do first?”

 

Link reached over, gently took Sidon’s gloved hand in his and walked out into the yard, padding towards the thin line of trees at the edge of the property. This extra land almost seemed silly for them to have with the house, with neither kids nor pets to make use of it; it almost seemed it was there just to make mowing the lawn in the summer even more of a chore. But it certainly had its advantages at times; this was no exception. The snow was, as Link had expected, fairly deep; his foot sank an inch or two into it with each step, the stuff coming to cover the tops of his boots. He traipsed into the trees, his grip on Sidon steady.

 

The woods, usually so vibrant and bursting with life it could revive you just to stand amidst them, were lifeless, every tree a barren skeleton, stiff frozen branches stretching crookedly into the sky. Snow had been plastered into the crooks and nannies in the bark, made to pile up some inches against the base of many of their trunks. There grew, struggling the rest of the year beneath the canopies of the broadleaf trees, a few thin evergreen saplings and shrubs; on their needles clung cottony clumps of snow, decorated as the perfect archetypal christmas tree. These woods were soft and silent, life suspended, muted for a bit by the snow and the cold. The only warm, living, moving things were them, working slowly up the gentle slope of the land. Hot breaths tumbled from mouths and fogged in the air in a lovely sort of giddy solidarity. Hands clasped tighter, minds cursing silently the accursed, sensation-stealing fabric between their skin.

 

They reached the other side of the woods. They stood some hundred feet from the foot of one slowly curving side of a wildflower knoll. Some yards away, a squirrel had dashed across the field, leaving a shallow set of prints. Link turned to look up at Sidon. His cheeks, what of them he could see with the way he had tugged his scarf over his mouth, as well as the tip of his nose were red beneath his cinnamon skin, but his eyes were yet clear and attentive as they met his. A chilling breeze picked up just then, whistled through the branches too loud for Link to shout over. He lifted his hands instead.

 

 _Snowman_ , he signed.

 

He could tell Sidon was smiling behind his scarf when he padded away to kneel and pack a fistful of snow into his palm. He heard Sidon walk away, footsteps retreating the way they had came. He was probably off to look for arms. Link busied himself with packing on as much snow to his snowball as he could, before it became too big to hold in his hands. He put it on the ground, gently pushed it about with his foot until it was big enough to steer with his hands. Once it was sufficiently large, tall enough to reach his knees, he started a second ball, and once that was done, a third. By the time Sidon returned, a small fortune of sticks of various lengths and thicknesses in his arms, Link was standing before his three creations, hands on his hips as he contemplated how to assemble them. He thought they might be easy enough to lift, but he didn’t want to risk breaking one of them in two. Sidon considered the problem for a few moments, then set down his pile.

 

“It would be more stable if we both lifted it, I think,” he offered.

 

“It’s worth a try,” Link said with a shrug. He stepped over to the second snowball, worked his hands beneath it as Sidon took position on its other side. Together, they lifted it, hands splayed wide on the bottom to keep its weight from ripping it apart, and placed it with a soft huff on the first snowball. Link bent to catch up a fistful of snow, spread it at the seam of the two balls, explaining to Sidon it was to act as glue and keep it stable. Link easily placed the last ball on top, fussing with it for a bit to make sure it was straight. Sidon watched him turn, bend down to mull over the selection of sticks he had found. He picked two of the thicker ones, both branched at the ends to make three crooked fingers. He pushed them into the sides of the center of the snowman, twisted them to make sure they stuck. He stepped back to admire their work for a moment. His eyebrows knit together on his face a second later, a few white snowflakes clinging to the hairs.

 

“Eyes…” Link murmured. Link looked around for a bit, then took off wading through the snow back towards the trees. Sidon followed him, a little ways into the woods until they reached the small, lazy stream that wound through the woods from the drainage pipe a few hundred feet away. It was frozen now, thick with ice and snow, but once Link had kicked enough of it away he found the water-smoothed stones he’d been searching for. He picked a few of them from the snow, clutched them in his palm and poured a few of them into Sidon’s. He hurried back to the snowman as fast as his heavy, snow packed boots would allow him, sifted through the fistful of stones he had until he found two good sized rust red ones. He pushed them into the snowman’s head, smoothed the snow around them once he had. He pressed the rest of his stones into a wide, curved smile, grabbing from Sidon’s stash once he ran out of his own. Once it was all done, Link stepped back, gently reached to hook his arm into Sidon’s.

 

“He looks good,” Sidon said confidently.

 

“Our son,” Link murmured, resting his head on Sidon’s arm.

 

“Our son,” Sidon repeated with a nod. “He looks just like you.”

 

Link smiled, let his eyes fall shut for a moment. He turned his face gently, pressed his lips to the cold sleeve of Sidon’s coat. He peeled open an eye to gaze up at Sidon. His eyes were squinted further in the cold, and his face had only gotten redder since they’d been outside, but he still seemed happy. Link’s heart turned in his chest. He slipped off one of his gloves, tucked it carefully into his pocket and reached for Sidon’s. Sidon let him pull his off as well, gingerly lacing their fingers together.

 

“Both our hands will get cold,” Sidon mused, letting Link Link only shook his head, raised their clasped hands to his lips, gently purse his lips against Sidon’s knuckles. His hand was already chilled on the back, pinpricks of cold leaching into his skin, running a little ways up his wrist, but he didn’t mind; he had missed the press of Sidon, his skin, his warmth, against him. Link turned his gaze to the field before them, the gently sloping land. He tugged Sidon forward, marching steadily toward the top of the hill. Somewhere beyond their perfect little sphere, a bird cried out over the sound of their footsteps, clear and warbling in the crisp, sharp air. Halfway up the slope, Link let Sidon take his hand back, his own knuckles so numb he could hardly bend them. The climb was short and easy. When the ground plateaued Link stopped, gazing out over the other side of the mound. Sidon joined him a few moments later, let his now gloved hand find his again.

 

There were more woods here, undeveloped land on the edge of the housing development in which they lived. The woods were denser here, trees healthier away from human interaction, much more diverse in speciation. It was here that the evergreens they had seen earlier seemed to reign, snow dusted tips reaching mightily for the heavens, wide bases leaving round barren swathes where the snow had not fallen. There ran along the base of it the same twisting stream they had seen earlier, its course frozen into a thin, shimmering ribbon of ice. Link could only stare in wonder, eyes wide and awed at the beauty of it all. His cheeks stung numbly in the cold. His moist breath tumbled into the fabric of his scarf, pulled back up to protect his chin; its heat remained as he exhaled, spread across his mouth and warmed his lips. He swung his awed gaze up to Sidon again. The cherry of his cheeks darkened when he found he’d already been looking down at him, eyes warm and amused. Neither had to say a word as Sidon slid an arm gingerly about Link’s waist, gently pulled him flush against his body. Link leaned his cheek minutely into Sidon’s hot palm as he reached to pull down his scarf, pressed his bare hand Link’s chilled cheek as he guided his soft mouth against his own. Link found his hands curled in the front of Sidon’s coat. The kiss was a slow, sweet thing, stirring and heated by Sidon’s proximity, his hand against his numb cheek, the hot breath from his nose ghosting over face. It seemed to warm Link, stirring and churning some feverish joy in his heart, driving the chill from his limbs.

 

* * *

 

When the two finally stumbled back inside, they were both chilled to the bone. They had continued exploring their little stretch of woods for a good while longer, until Sidon noticed the tremble in Link’s hands, the soft shudder in his breath. Link had tried to protest, claiming he’d be fine, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt to be back within the balmy air of their home as he stripped himself of his gear, the heating having finally caught up to the thermostat in the time they had been gone. Sidon undressed quickly, disappeared into the depths of the house as Link sat to pull off his boots, fingers made dumb from the cold. When he returned, his arms were full of thick, fluffy blankets from the linen closet. Link accepted them graciously, sitting cross legged on the couch and wrapping one tightly around his still shivering form.

 

“You look like you could use some hot chocolate,” he murmured, pausing to press a kiss to Link’s cool forehead.

 

“Yes, please,” Link said, rubbing his cheek against the comforter around him.

 

Sidon smiled against his skin. He pursed his lips against his forehead once more before he straightened up to go to the kitchen. Link watched him go, pulling his blanket tighter around him. A moment later, he unfolded himself from the couch, padding to their bedroom. He stripped off his soaked and chilled clothes for drier warmer ones, and pulled on a pair of plush house socks. When he returned to the living room, Sidon was just setting down two mugs of hot chocolate, piled high with whipped cream and marshmallows, steam curling tantalizingly from them. Link slid under the blanket beside Sidon, already seated on the couch and flipping through their collection of DVDs. Link pressed into him, his heat seemingly unhampered all this time by the chill of the outdoors. Link reached for his mug, numb fingers tingling as they touched the heated ceramic. The drink was hot and delicious on his tongue, rich and smooth and sweet, running a vein of warmth through him as he drank.

 

“A fire would be nice,” Link murmured, tongue coming to swipe whipped cream from his upper lip.

 

“You think?” Sidon mused, spreading out a few cases before them.

 

Link nodded, resting his head on Sidon’s shoulder. “This one.”

 

Sidon set aside the other movies, gently brushed some of Link’s bangs from his forehead. The tips of his fingers were still cool to the touch. “That  _would_ be nice. We could turn off the lights, get a couple more blankets. It’d be rather cozy.”

 

Link nodded again, turned his face to press his mouth to his neck. He felt him move beneath him, starting to rise to put the movie in, but he grabbed his arm to stop him, whined softly in his throat. When Sidon turned to look at him, Link set down his mug, laced both his arms around Sidon’s neck. He leaned into him, pressed his mouth softly against Sidon’s, eyes fluttering shut as he did. After a few seconds, he pulled away, pressed a handful of kisses to his cheek.

 

“I love you.” It came out as a sigh, his voice hushed and dreamy.

 

Sidon smiled. “I love you, too.”


	15. valentine's day drabble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is also for dustin as part of a discord v-day gift exchange ! i have been soul bound to this man i cannot escape him  
> this isnt rly anything theres no context its just cute !! :-)

Link was curled in the bed, tucked comfortably into the soft white sheets, blankets bunched in his fists, held protectively around his face. His face was calm and smooth as he slept, body rising and falling slowly with his breath. He had been so exhausted from their nearly full day of travel—so much so that he had begun to nod off as they stood in line to check in—that as soon as they had gotten to their suite, he had slipped his shoes off and collapsed into the bed, snoring quietly before his head even hit the pillow. Sidon had tucked him in gingerly before he continued moving the rest of their luggage into the room. Now, bags moved and placed neatly in front of the closet door, he stood in the center of the room, surveying his surroundings. Every inch was crisp and clean, yet the subtleties of the architecture gave off a sort of tropical, rustic vibe: the stone and pebble floor was cool beneath his feet, seemed to suck up and offset the thick sweltering humidity that permeated even through the walls it seemed, a carefully inlaid mosaic pattern on the wall above their bed shone warmly in the low light of the room, all dazzling reds and rich yellows and deep blues; the small square of grass visible outside the sliding glass door, complete with the tall, gently curving trunk of a palm tree. And beyond, a short stretch of shimmering white sand before the brilliant azure waters of the ocean.

 

Link hadn’t been against Mexico for Valentine’s Day. Indeed, when the decision was officially settled upon, he was near ecstatic at the chance to see the ocean. His only concern had been the cost, of course, and the logistics and justification of going so far for only a few days. He was no stranger to Sidon and his famous devotion to go to any ends for his equally famous extravagant celebrations of love; their one year anniversary had truly been something to behold. And he knew money was really no object for him—for either of them now, really—but he couldn’t shake the instinctual resistance to a price tag so eye watering for something so little as a Valentine’s Day getaway. Luckily, it had taken little convincing to sway his mind; Sidon need only slide his arms around his waist and murmur into his ear how nice it would be to wake up to the sound of the waves, to feel the sun on his skin, the salty wind in his hair, the promise of an entire private suite all to themselves. Link had practically melted into nothingness then and there. The ocean, Sidon knew, was one of Link’s great loves, one he very rarely got to encounter from their functionally landlocked home. Even on the plane ride over, half asleep, cranky, and nauseous as he was Sidon still caught the light stirring in Link’s eyes as he caught first sight of the vast expanse of blue beneath them. He had dragged himself into as best a sitting up position as he could to stare out the window until they landed. The first whiff of the warm damp tropical air seemed to rouse him back to life as they stepped off the plane.

 

Sidon stepped over to the bed, sat down gingerly on the edge, reaching to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind Link’s ear. His pink pointed ear twitched nearly imperceptibly, and Link himself stirred a bit, slight form swelling as he took in a slow, deep breath, letting it out with a soft, contented sigh. Sidon couldn’t help the smile that crept across his lips. He looked out the glass door, at the gently rolling and swelling form of the ocean, all the same stretch of turquoise rousing and billowing all the way to the horizon and beyond. Sidon rose to his feet, padded over to the door and unlocked it swiftly. At the first crack of the door, the smell of the sea came tumbling easily into the room, as well as the faint but sharp cries of seabirds picking off fish in the shallows. As Sidon slid the door open the rest of the way, the steady crash of waves against sand and rock reached his ears. A hot breeze came tickling past as he stepped out onto the patio, rustled the leaves of the palm above him like the soft percussion of the gods. The balmy air settled delicately over his cool skin, drawing color to his cheeks and soothing his wound muscles. He sat down at the edge of the patio, let his feet rest on the grass

* * *

Link took in a deep, easy breath, eyes closed, chin resting on his crossed arms. The water of the pool lapped gently against his back as he kicked his legs lazily, the majority of his weight resting on the concrete edge of the pool.

 

The pool wasn’t meant to be private, but at the moment it may as well have been for how deserted it was; it was only the mid-morning, but in their few days there they had learned that in a place like this, a place of respite and relaxation, it was to be expected that nearly everyone would still be in bed. Anyone who wasn’t was usually to be found at one of the resort restaurants or at the beach. He wasn’t a morning person by anyone’s standards, but Sidon’s habitual early rising had rubbed off on Link some over the months, and neither of them much desired to itchy of dried salt on their skin. In any event, they had lucked out in forgoing the beach for the time being. Link didn’t need to struggle into his too-small, too-garish-for-his-liking bikini top to cover his chest, and they could, as Link had pointed out, be as intimate as they pleased. Sidon had chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled in his throat, and tightened his arm around Link’s waist.

 

Sidon was stretched out on a wooden patio chair, flashes of his golden eyes peeking over the tops of his sunglasses as he read. Link had teased him when he had gotten out after only a short while in the pool, humming in playful agreement when he promised to get back in soon enough. Although, body on full display, brown skin smooth and glistening in the blazing sun, stretched beautifully over strong firm muscles, curving just right over the sharper, bonier edges of him, fiery hair swept up into a fascinatingly messy bun, Link couldn’t begin to complain. Indeed, it brought a delicate pink blush to his cheeks, easy enough to pass off as the beginnings of sunburn.

 

Between the glistening white blocks of rooms, the vast blue horizon of the ocean was visible, and indeed one could even hear the faint crash of its waves. The sea was everywhere here, settling thickly on the skin in the hot, wet air, bringing the scent of salt and life with every breeze, churning and roaring as faint, inescapable background music to every stirring of life and vitality. Against the horizon, black dots of boats and smatterings of white seagulls.

 

Link stared into the distance, legs kicking gently in the water surrounding him. He stirred, eyes opening and falling to Sidon, shoulders shifting stiffly as he went up onto his elbows.

 

“Sidon. Come here.”

 

His blazing eyes met his, warm and soft and curious. “Why?”

 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. Just come here.”

 

Sidon bent back the corner of his page, closing his book and setting it beside his chair as he rose to his feet, stepping over to where Link rested. He beckoned for him to bend down, low enough for him to reach his face. Sidon had to kneel and then bend down some even further, humming something warm in his throat about him and his tricks. Link ignored him, reaching to gently curl an arm around his neck at the same instant that he gently pushed himself up onto his free palm, stretching to press his mouth sweetly against Sidon’s. A small half smile spread across Sidon’s lips as he kissed him back, bearing into the kiss a bit with his own weight and bringing a hand up to gently brush against Link’s cheek. This close, the heat from sitting so long the sun as well as his own affection seemed to waft from Sidon’s cheeks like a wave.

* * *

 Sidon’s arms were strong around Link as he held him, his embrace familiar and stable and warm. Link pressed into him, arms tightening around his solid waist, head inclined against his wide chest, his ear poised just so to listen to the steady thrumming of his heart. Sidon’s hands were gentle as they combed lazily through his hair, curled to scratch lightly at his scalp the way he knew Link loved so much. Slow, warm tingles spread through Link’s body as he did and he hummed, turning his face to press soft lips against the bare skin of his chest.

 

The room was silent around them. Outside, muffled by the glass of the door, the hazy din of crickets insects and frogs rang out into the night, interjected every so often by the warbling cry of some nocturnal creature, some seabird still wheeling alone above the darkened waves. Light from the rooms stretching down the beach, from the rest of the city along the sea, from the vessels out beyond the tide or soaring overhead, made the waters glitter like jewels, paired perfectly with the soft, gentle burble of the equally drowsy waves against the sand, calmed and soothed by the absence of the day’s winds. Inside, the room was dark, a cuddle session after dinner and night activities having turned into an impromptu nap. The air conditioner hummed softly beneath everything, brought a slight chill to the air staved off by the blankets swaddled around them and the heat of their own bodies, so preciously near and radiant.

 

Sidon stirred, chest expanding slowly as he drew in a slow, groggy breath. He peeled open an eye, gaze drawn to the burning neon red numbers of the alarm clock on the bedside table. His eyes focused just into to see the numbers shift with a soft click from 11:59pm to 12:00am. The date now read “Feb. 14.” He smiled sleepily, closing his eyes as he shifted to press gentle lips to the top of Link’s head.

 

“Darling,” he whispered, lips lingering in his wild blond tresses. He pursed his lips against his scalp again, shifting and stretching a bit. “Wake up.”

 

Link took in a slow, long breath, humming softly in his throat as he did. When Sidon looked down, he was gazing up at him, eyes made narrow and red with sleep.

 

“It’s the 14th now.”

 

Link’s gaze slid groggily towards the alarm clock and he craned awkwardly around, movements made clumsy and slow. “Since when?” His voice was rough and low.

 

“Since about a minute ago.”

 

Link turned back to look at Sidon, eyes already clearer and more alert. He pressed forward gently, brushed his lips against the warm skin of his chest.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmured, lips moving against his skin.

 

Sidon’s finger easily found Link’s chin, coaxed it and his face up so that he could kiss him, lips rough and hot and so full of groggy, syrupy love it made Link’s chest ache dully.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Sidon cooed back, mouth curling into a slow smile against Link’s.

 

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the palmetto tree on the short stretch of beach outside their room, carrying with it the sweet smell of the sea.


End file.
